


Fire In The Skies

by Jeanne152



Series: the Aces of Strangereal and Their Stories [1]
Category: Ace Combat
Genre: F/M, LITERALLY, They have no idea, because author is horrible at tagging, no tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanne152/pseuds/Jeanne152
Summary: Cipher gave a nonchalant hum, turning to stare towards the north-western horizon. To other people, it might seem like he was staring at the setting sun, but I knew better. Somewhere, hidden by the mountain ranges, was a lifeless land decimated by the flames of war, where an entire nation was killed off in the span of days. Once, it was known as Nostrand. After what happened a few months ago, it was nothing but history.That country was why I fought against my home country.orA "sneak-peek" into the Belkan War through the eyes of an ace. How two unlikely friends bonded like brothers, and how a war tore apart millions of lives.





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer (1): I don't own Ace Combat or any of the characters (except my OCs. That got me thinking. Is Cipher is an OC or not? Or is he part OC and part non-OC since Namco created the idea of the character and I fabricated the character's background? Whoops.... Guess I just rambled again. Sorry.). I just borrow these characters for a little while so I can have fun with their lives...
> 
> Disclaimer (2): Also, Blackhawk (Sebastian Foulke) is actually a character in Quality Comics (DC Comics later on, after the rights for the character was bought by them). His hawk insignia and Lockheed XF-90 in this story is the same with Quality Comics' Blackhawk. All rights go to them! All I did was add a little background story and make him Pixy's little brother...
> 
> "Fire In The Skies" is my version of what happened in the Belkan War. In other words, it's an AU. Basically, what I did is just add another squadron, some new pilots, and a whole new country that exists only as a reminder that it was decimated by Belka in the first week of the war. And when I say decimated, I really mean decimated. The entire country is overtaken, most of its people are killed and those that survived took refuge in other countries.
> 
> This entire story will be in Pixy's POV.

_ I was flying… I was in my usual F-15. There was a plane in front of me, a Lockheed XF-90. From the stylized hawk insignia, I recognized the pilot of the plane. It was Blackhawk, my flight lead. _

_ There was a city beneath us. It was burning. Smoke billowed from large buildings, and I could even see the fire sprouting from the windows. People were running on the streets. I couldn’t hear their screams, but I felt it. I felt their panic, their despair. The night sky was dark, and yet, it seemed unsettled, not like the usual calm sky I usually see whenever I was stargazing. There were no moon, no stars, only an endless span of stormy clouds. _

_ From the distance, I could hear the rumble of several fighter jets. I turned around to look for them, and there it was; several black planes standing out against the burning city. They were flying low, as if they were trying to avoid radar. As if they were trying to avoid us. _

_ Before I could try to figure out why they were there, all four planes swept up towards Blackhawk and me, their missiles already locked onto the both of us. It was only pure luck that I managed to avoid the two that were heading my way. Blackhawk managed to do the same, and I felt myself grin. He wasn’t my brother for no reason. _

_ “We’ll get them, buddy,” Blackhawk said to me through the radio. At the same time, he twisted his plane to get behind an enemy plane. “This one’s mine.” _

_ I laughed. “Sure it is. Finders, keepers, loser. I’ll get ‘im first.” _

_ I waited for Blackhawk to reply. But he didn’t. He was never one to let chirps go. He always chirped back . Something was wrong. “Blackhawk?” I tried, hoping that he’d reply. Even though I could see him, not having him responding to me felt strange. It felt surreal and scary at the same time. “Blackhawk!” _

_ Still no reply. Before I could try again, one of the other enemy planes went after me. I saw it through my rearview mirror. I tried to roll out of the way, but the damned bastard was faster than I thought. It wasn’t long before the red wing of my Eagle was riddled with bullets. The impact jostled my plane, and on instinct, I turned around to see the damage. Somehow, some of the bullets managed to hit a fuel line. With the fuel leaking, I couldn’t see the wing. Just like that day… _

_ “Larry? Are you okay?” Blackhawk’s worried squawk through the radio brought me out of my reverie. He was flying by my side, as if to check if I was okay. Sometime between I was shot and his transmission, the scenery had changed. The dark sky was replaced by clear blue ones with not a cloud in sight, and the burning city was nowhere in sight. In its place was the barren mountain range that was the B7R. _

_ It would’ve been perfect if the enemy had also disappeared. They hadn’t. Just my luck. _

_ “I’m fine, Sebastian,” I replied. Even as I said so, I noticed that my fuel tanks were being emptied at a worrying pace. It didn’t help that I had to keep my throttle all the way up lest I would stall. De ja vu… _

_ “Larry? Can you hear me?” Blackhawk said again. At first, I was confused, but I quickly remembered that he couldn’t hear me. My radio must’ve been busted. I shook the wings of my plane and turned the lights on to show that yes, I could hear him. _

_ Before any more words were exchanged, the enemies attacked us once again. _

_ Knowing better than to risk a futile fight with a heavily damagted plane, I tried to pull away from the fight. I did, but one of them decided to chase me down. I tried everything I could think off; a cobra, an Immelman, anything to shake him off. Nothing seemed to work. I realized that time was running out. I realized that I was going to die. _

_ As if on cue, the enemy launched a missile straight at me. I knew there was no dodging this one, so I just closed my eyes and braced for impact. _

_ The missile never hit me. Instead, it hit Blackhawk. I froze as I realized what had happened. He actually… _

_ “Blackhawk, get out of there!” I shouted. His engine was hit, his plane was a mess, and fuck, was his cockpit actually on fire? “Blackhawk!” _

_ There was no reply from him. I could only stare as his plane exploded into a brilliant ball of fire. _

_ “BLACKHAWK!!!” _

_X_

With a gasp, I sat up, fully awake and sweating. I looked around me. I wasn’t in a burning plane anymore, staring at the exploding remains of my brother’s plane. I was back in my room, in Valais Air Base.

It had been a dream.

Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face to wake myself up just a bit more. The dream felt so real, I couldn’t tell if I was really dreaming or not. It was unnerving. I could still feel the ghostly feeling of an overheated control panel lingering in my hands, stinging me as I tried to touch the button that would put the landing gear down. My ears were still ringing from the sound of missile alerts and the sound of Blackhawk shouting at me through the radio. Blackhawk… Just to check, I turned to the bunk below mine. To my dismay, it was empty. It looked as if it hadn’t been slept on for days.

The dream was both a dream and not a dream.

I felt a pang as I remembered what had happened a few days ago. Even though I’d known about it all those time, it still hurt as much. I’d start the day, thinking that Blackhawk was still there. That the only reason he wasn’t in the bed was that he was out on patrol flight. But it all went away when I saw the folded Ustian flag on the desk.

It was kind of ironic to have that flag, especially since we were both Belkans and we were both fighting our country in this stupid war. It wasn’t that we resented fighting it, though. What Belka did was unforgiveable, up to the point where I was ashamed to call myself a Belkan.

A few weeks ago, Belka began an invasion on its neighbouring countries. The first to be attacked was Nostrand, which also happened to be one of its primary targets. Belka was renown for their amazing Air Force. Their pilots were legends. If Belka was good, Nostrand was better. I’d seen first hand evidence to back up that rumor. To say I was afraid when facing that Nostrandic pilot was an understatement. I felt like he was the personification of death himself. Luckily for me and my life, I was put up against him in a practice dogfight.

Since Nostrand beat Belka in their only strength, Belka decided to take that out first, and fast. The invasion was swift and silent; it only took hours for Warsaw, the nation’s capital city, to fall into the hands of Belkan soldiers. The president and the entire cabinet were executed on live broadcast. It was only then that the rest of the world realized what had happened. Belka had decimated the nation’s entire military forces, raiding base after base and leaving no survivor. It was the same case with the poor civilians who happened to witness them.

It was the beginning of Belka’s invasion on every country near them; it was the start of the Belkan War.

Basically everyone in the entire world was outraged by what Belka did. Their invasion broke every single law of modern military combat. It was unspeakable. I shuddered. To think that what once was my beloved country did such a thing…

Shaking my head off of the thought, I stood up. The mountain air was cold, but not unwelcome. It felt soothing. Only several parts of Belka was colder than this mountain. It was almost reminiscent of home.

Putting off my jacket, I walked out of my room. There was no use staying in a place where there was a constant reminder of Blackhawk. The base was practically empty. Only several of the guards were awake, and that was solely because of watch duty. I glanced at my watch. It was 2 a.m.

No wonder, then.

Realizing that there must’ve been a patrol flight, I turned towards the Control Tower. I’d know since I saw the schedule. If I wasn’t mistaken, the squadron that was supposed to do patrol at this hour was Tiger Squadron and the two mercenaries that were assigned with them. I wasn’t all that familiar with them, so I didn’t know their real names, only their callsigns.

I knocked on the door of the Control Room. I was surprised to hear someone say, “Come in.” Normally, the night owls at the Control Tower were either too tired to notice someone knocking at the door or were using their headphones so they couldn’t hear a knock. I opened the door, and found that I was right. They were all using headphones. Well, all of them did except the Base Commander.

Base Commander Ovechkin was the emperor of Valais Air Base. He was the one who kept things running in order. He was also the one who made the call to haul in mercenaries to strengthen Ustio’s Air Force; it was a call that didn’t sit well with the top brass. But in the end, it was one of the reasons that Valais Air Base was the last one standing. Despite being of Yuktobanian descent, the Base Commander was loyal to Ustio, and was an Ustian himself.

I snapped a salute at the Commander, who returned it. He grinned. “Lt. Foulke. What brings you here so early?”

Since it wouldn’t be appropriate to say that it was a nightmare, instead, I said, “I was wondering if I could start flying, sir.”

Ever since what had happened with Blackhawk, the Base Commander decided to keep me grounded until I got a wingman of my own. I understood. With the war, it was too dangerous for anyone to fly solo, and every single pilot was valuable at this stage. But it didn’t mean that the order sat well with me. Flying was in my blood. You could never keep a beast inside its cage for long before it goes mad and breaks loose.

The Base Commander sighed. “We’ve been over this, Foulke. We can’t let you fly until you have a wingman.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the floor dejectedly. “Yes, sir,” I replied automatically.

“There is an open slot for you, though,” the Base Commander said after a while. “But it’s with the Tiger Squadron. Which means you have to be an Air Force pilot.”

The perks of being a mercenary… As much as I loved flying, I wasn’t willing to go through the whole Air Force crap again. Flying was good, but strict Air Forces and stupid protocols just weren’t my style. “No, thanks, sir,” I said politely. “I think I’d wait a little longer.”

The Base Commander nodded. He was about to say something else when one of the radar operators tore off his headphones and turned to the Commander, saying, “Sir, I think you should see this.”

The Base Commander went quickly to said radar monitor. Out of curiosity, I followed. The radar showed five planes at the edge of our airspace. Four were marked as Belkans and hostile. Apparently, they were chasing the other one. Now who that was was still a mystery…

The radar couldn’t identify the lone aircraft. It was marked as an unknown F-15C. The radar operator pulled out his headphone from the audio jack, and suddenly, radio chatter blared through the speakers. “This is 2 nd Lt. Jackson of the Nostrandic Air Force. I am being chased by four Belkan pilots. Request immediate help. These are my coordinates…”

I couldn’t believe my hearing. A Nostrand was fighting off four Belkans right here in our airspace?! “This is Valais Air Base,” Commander Ovechkin said to the microphone he just grabbed from the radar operator. “We read you, 2 nd Lieutenant. What is your situation?”

“I’m low on fuel,” came the reply a few seconds later. I could hear some alert system going off in the background, probably warning that a missile was locked on to the plane. “I only have enough to go for another hundred miles or so.” That’s barely enough for him to reach Valais…

The radar operator turned to Commander Ovechkin. “What is your call, sir?”

I looked at the Base Commander. He seemed torn. At one hand, it wouldn’t be right to not help out someone from Nostrand. They need all the help they could get. On the other, it could very well be a ploy by the Belkans to smuggle a spy within the ranks of Ustio.

It didn’t take long for Ovechkin to answer, “Send Tiger Squad to help. If anyone surrenders, bring them in. If the Nostrandic turns hostile, shoot him. Can’t risk it.”

“Roger that,” the radar operator said with a nod. He turned back to the screen. The lone plane was now turned towards the Belkan formation, apparently going to engage them. “This is Valais Air Base to unknown Nostrandic craft,” the operator said to the microphone which somehow had disappeared from the Commander’s hands and reappeared in his. “We are sending a patrol over to your position. Surrender now and head over to our base. Our flight will handle the Belkans.”

For a few seconds, there was nothing but static from the other end of the radio. I frowned. Was he somehow shot down? Looking towards the radar screen, I noticed that it wasn’t the case. There were still five planes on the radar.

“A compromise,” the unknown pilot answered. “I fight these guys first, and then your patrol can escort me to your base. I’ll surrender peacefully, but in exchange, I want to join your forces as a mercenary.”

Well, well, well… Wasn’t that an unlikely request? “As if he can fight them all by himself,” Ovechkin scoffed. I had to admit, the odds were not in that guy’s favor. “Tell him we agree, if he can survive those four. After that, he can join the mercs.”

I was barely able to restrain myself from pointing out what a stupid idea it was. For all we know, the guy could be a Belkan spy. And for him to request immediate position in the Air Force (even as a mercenary) was really suspicious. Not trusting myself to remain cool-headed about the whole situation, I walked out of the Control Room and headed straight for the runway. If the “new guy” was going to be here, I might as well see him when he arrived.

_X_

“You hear about new guy, Larry?”

I looked up to find the leader of Tiger Squadron standing in front of me. Viktor Malkin, also known as Buster in the skies, was practically scowling at me, standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Yeah,” I answered with a shrug. “I was in the Control Room when he first radioed in. Didn’t stay long after that.”

Viktor sat on the bench across from mine. The mess was mostly empty at the time. It was still really early, and only the pilots on patrol were there. The most likely scenario was that most of the pilots were still asleep. I wouldn’t be surprised. Even the sun wasn’t even up yet. “What’s up with him?” Viktor asked, frowning.

I sighed. “All I know is he’s a pilot from Nostrand. How he survived, I didn’t know.”

“Maybe traitor?” Viktor suggested. “Sold his friends in exchange for life. Something go wrong, he run here.”

“It could be,” I said. Absent-mindedly, I fiddled with the cup of coffee in my hands. “But I doubt it. Did you see him?”

Viktor shook his head. I looked around, to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us, and said, “He looked like he went through hell. I doubt that he’s a Belkan spy.” In truth, the guy really looked like it. He was battered and had bruises all over him. Even his flight suit was covered in blood. Whose blood it was I had no idea. I doubted it was his. He wouldn’t be alive if he’d lost so many.

I had also noticed that he was actually wearing a genuine Nostrandic flight suit, with all the proper insignias. Moreover, he shot down three of the four Belkan planes chasing him. No Belkan spies would do that. Belka always valued the lives of their pilots; they would never let their pilots die just for the sake of smuggling in a single spy. And to the new guy’s credit, the fight looked genuine enough; there was no hint of it being orchestrated.

When Viktor still didn’t look convinced, I proceeded, “I was also there when Base Commander interrogated him. And guess what? The reason he’s here is because he wants another chance to get at those Belkans. Don’t you think that speaks for itself? He’s from Nostrand; naturally, he wants revenge for his country.”

“Still not like,” Viktor argued, leaning forward a bit. “What if he spy? Tell secret to Belka? We die if they get our plans.”

“True,” I admitted. “But he’s being locked in the infirmary now. He’s not allowed to go out until he’s cleared. There’s no way for him to get to our battle plans that way. And don’t worry. We’ll be monitoring him 24/7.”

Viktor laughed. “Locked in infirmary. Only plans he get is medical records. Still risky.”

“We need all the pilots we can get, Viktor,” I argued. “The Belkans are really good. And he’s from Nostrand! You know as well as I do how good they are. That’s why they’re targeted first.”

Grimly, Viktor nodded. He seemed less unhappy now. That was a good sign. “We keep watch on him,” he said. “Give him chance. One wrong move, he die.”

What else would you expect? “Agreed,” I said with a nod. As Viktor stood up, evidently about to leave, I said again, “Will you tell the others?”

“Of course,” Viktor nodded, grinning. “Got to be prepared for anything.” He turned around and began to walk away, but just before he exited the mess, he stopped and called out. “You fly today?”

To my dismay, the answer was still a no. “Not yet,” I said to him. “Soon, I hope.” Which was true. I was starting to get sick of being stuck on the ground. You can only run the simulator so much before you get bored. And to consider I had to pay for using said simulator… Air Force pilots had the liberty to use it for free. Mercenaries…not so much.

“Watch out, Larry,” Viktor said. “New guy might be wingman.” And just like that, he left.

I hadn’t even considered that. It wasn’t that far-fetched an idea. My team, the Galm team (which right now was only consisted of myself) was the only mercenary team with a vacant slot so far. And we didn’t have the luxury of grounding the Halo Squadron for long periods. Halo Squadron was the Air Force Squadron paired with the Galm Team. It was the setup the higher-ups had configured for the half-mercenary-half-military structure of Ustio’s 6 th Air Division. Each Air Force Squadron would be paired with a mercenary team. Tiger Squadron was paired with Alpha Team. It was an unorthodox approach, but hey, it worked. It was the reason Valais survived as long as it did. And right now, we were the last Air Force Base in Ustio’s hands.

To that, I wish the Force be with us all…


	2. GLACIAL SKIES (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few Belkan bombers decide to pay Valais Air Base a visit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm splitting the mission into a few chapters, since it's so long. I got a headache just reading it on my phone. (I write on my computer, so it doesn't really bother me, but it'll probably bother you guys, so...
> 
> Chapters in missions it is :)

April 2, 1995. 1300 hrs.   
Valais Air Base.

_ “It was a cold and snowy day…" _

I was in the middle of playing a card game with Halo Squadron when we were called to a briefing. It was unexpected; there were no briefings scheduled for the time being. Knowing how unusual it was, we mentally prepared ourselves for anything.

Our hunch was right, considering that the briefing started as soon as we entered the dimly lit room.

“Listen up!” The Base Commander’s voice boomed throughout the room, even though he wasn’t using a microphone or a loudspeaker. We barely had any time to sit before he spoke again, “We have a situation on our hands.”

The projector flickered to life, and soon, the wall had a map plastered all over it. It was a map of Ustio. Somehow, I noticed that “Directus” was marked on said map, even when all of us knew that the capital city has fallen to the hands of the Belkans. I winced a bit at that. All of us knew that the top brass was not happy with how we handled Belka’s invasion on Directus. But still, there was nothing more that we could’ve done; Belka timed their attack perfectly. Right now, the only thing that we could do was to focus on the now. And right now, things didn’t look so good.

A panel appeared in front of the map, blocking most of it – including Directus – from view. It had several words on it. As I read it, I realized that as urgent as the situation was, someone in Base Command managed the time to pull off all of this. They named the mission “Operation Crossbow”. As much as I loved my line of work as a mercenary, sometimes, it was nice to feel the orderly life of the Air Force.

“A major squadron of Belkan bombers has crossed our border and is making its way here, to Valais Air Base,” the Base Commander said, confirming our worst thoughts. “Apparently, they intend to attack our base in an initiative to gain hegemony over the entire Republic of Ustio. Valais Air Base is our country's last line of defense. If our base falls, no one will be left to stop Belka from taking over Ustio.”

No shit, Commander.

“Your mission is to destroy the squad of bombers and defend our base. Belka's invasion must end here,” the Base Commander finished, and the lights were turned on as the projector was turned off. “Any questions?”

My hand was the first to shoot up. “Am I going to fly on this mission?” As much as I enjoyed the slow life of being grounded, I’d really love to fly again. Nothing ever beats the rush you feel when you get on a plane and push it to supersonic speeds.

“Yes, you are, Foulke,” the Base Commander answered to my surprise. I hadn’t been reassigned to any new teams as far as I knew, so I had no idea who I would fly with. “I’ve assigned Cipher to Galm Team. Both of you will fly together.”

Instinctively, I turned to find Cipher. The newcomer was sitting a row in front of my seat, so I was unable to see his expression. I wondered how he took the news. I knew I was surprised. Not that I disliked the idea of having Cipher as my wingman, because the Nostrandic had to be crazy good to survive being chased by four Belkans and shooting three of them down before landing with a plane riddled with holes. F-15s were sturdy; I’d know since I had first-hand experience, but not everyone could control a damaged plane, especially when they themselves were not in tip-top shape.

Now that we were in the same team, who was going to be flight lead? Before I had a chance to ask, though, the Base Commander said, “Dismissed.”

All the pilots walked out of the room at that command. Well, all of them except me did. Even Cipher didn’t seem to wonder who was the leader in our flight.

I walked right up to the Base Commander. He seemed to have expected me, since he didn’t make a move towards the door like he’d normally do after briefings. After a brief salute, I said, “Sir, who is the flight lead in my team?”

The Base Commander sighed before he answered, “I thought I’d let you decide, Pixy. Both of you have the same rank, but with your experience, by default, you should be flight lead.” He smiled at me. If that was the case…

“Why didn’t you say so, sir?” I asked. The Base Commander clasped his hands behind his back and looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Since you have the experience,” he said, “I trust you to make the decision on the best course for the team.”

So it was all up to me, then? “Thank you, sir,” I automatically said. What else could you say in that situation?

“Now get going, pilot,” the Base Commander said. “Those bombers aren’t going to shoot themselves down.” Taking my cue, I snapped a salute before going off to the hangars. As I walked, I realized that I really didn’t know how I would deal with this “little” problem of mine. I didn’t know Cipher that much; no one did. And apart from his scuffle with the Belkans just before he came to base, I had no idea how good he actually was in the air. Even though I was in the Control Tower when I saw Cipher’s and the Belkans’ planes enter the airspace, I couldn’t tell how he fought them off.

Come to think of it, it was pretty impressive. He fought off four Belkans all the way from Nostrand to Valais and managed to shoot down three of them before our patrol could come to his aid. He was good, I was willing to admit that much. But could I trust him with the position of flight lead?

Minutes later, when I took flight to the skies, I’ve made up my mind.

_X_

“Hey, Pixy, who’d you think will bag the most kills today?”

I chuckled as I recognized the voice. It was Daniel Yates, callsign Rowdy. He was the number 3 pilot for the Halo Squadron, one of the last squadrons of the Ustio Air Force in Valais Air Base. Like his callsign suggested, he was always one to talk and keep talking while somehow managing to bag some kills himself. Today was no exception.

“You still bother asking?” Lance replied. His real name was Peter Nolan, and he flew number 2 for his flight lead, Gil “Robin” Favor. “Of course he’d say himself. He’s an egocentric bastard,” Lance continued, somehow ignoring the fact that I could hear him loud and clear.

“I do bag the most kills though,” I retorted at him. As boastful as it sounded, it was the truth. “You’re just jealous.”

There was a laugh over the comms. “Oh please,” Veronique “Scarlet” Addams spoke. “You only get the most kills because Gil lets you to.”

Robin, being the strict leader and utter buzz kill that he was, said, “Scarlet, please use callsigns only in missions.”

“Aaand… Captain Serious is back,” Rowdy said, and all of us laughed. Because, really, the name suited Robin to a tee.

“I’m not Captain Serious,” Robin grumbled, which only made us laugh even harder. “Do I get a say in this?”

Lance stopped his laughter long enough to answer, “To answer that question, Captain, I have a huge NO written on signs. Now who do you think will get the most kills?”

“The rookie,” Robin answered in a heartbeat. And really, if he hadn’t mentioned Cipher, I wouldn’t have realized that he was actually with us. He was so quiet. I turned to look where his plane was, just to make sure that he was really there. He was right behind me, taking wingman position.

Guess that explained which position he’d prefer. Oh, well.

“Why’d you pick me?” a new voice said which I only vaguely recognized. It wasn’t surprising, since the only time Cipher talked to me at all was when he first came in, and that was through the comms. Even then, he wasn’t even talking to me; I had been eavesdropping on the Control Tower.

“Because what you did took guts, rook,” Lance said. “Especially since you did it with that banged-up plane. And, if that wasn’t enough, it’s because you’re from Nostrand. Now what’s your name again? Chipper?”

I had to prevent myself from laughing, because there was no way that that was unintentional. “It’s ‘Cipher’,” Cipher responded. “And what do you mean it’s because I’m from Nostrand? I’m still a trainee even there.”

I legit did not know that. He sure didn’t fight like a trainee.

There was a soft whistle over the comms. “If trainees there are that good,” Rowdy said, “how good are the actual pilots?”

“I wasn’t that good,” Cipher insisted. Damn, that guy was stubborn.

Scarlet laughed. “’Wasn’t’. Yeah, real believable, rookie.”

Before any of us could say anything else, there was a transmission over the radio. “This is Base Command. Guess all you boys managed to get up.” Our Base Commander sounded really grumpy. I couldn’t blame him. After all, this wasn’t the first time that our so-called “unnecessary chatter” had caused him to feel irritated during missions. “Galm 1, Galm 2, maintain present course.”

Taking that as my cue, I engaged the air brakes on my Eagle, forcing Cipher to end up in front of me. “This is Galm 2. Roger that.”

His reaction was instantaneous. “Wha- Wait, hold on a sec. Since when am I-“

“Bearing 3-1-5, Belkan bombers approaching,” Base Command said, effectively cutting Cipher off. And just to make sure that he didn’t have time to protest my decision, I spoke again, “Nobody wants to bail out into a mountain of ice. We're counting on you, flight leader.”

There was a bit of a pause before Cipher said, “Solo Wing, don’t you think you’re the one who should be flight lead?”

Well, someone had been telling stories. I hadn’t even introduced myself, and the rookie already knew who I was. Not even the Base Commander called me ‘Solo Wing’. It must be one of the Halo Squadron, Scarlet most likely. She was always friendly towards newcomers. “Nah, I like being Galm 2 better,” I replied, trying to sound as casual as I could be. I really didn’t mind being number 2. I had always been number 2. I did it with Blackhawk who, all things considered, was practically also a trainee when I made him flight lead for the Galm Team’s very first mission. It was years ago. If I could do it with Blackhawk, then I could do it with Cipher.

“Uh… Fine, I guess,” Cipher responded. He sounded uncertain, but his reaction was better than I expected. Honestly, I thought he’d freak out, especially since he was actually a trainee. To think that he’d survived Nostrand’s demise before he could complete his training…

“All units, prepare to intercept,” Base Command said again. I moved so my plane ended up just a bit lower than Cipher’s. If I was going to go forward with this wingman thing, I might as well do it the right way.

“You'd better have our pay ready and waiting,” I chirped back at him. I’d never tell the Commander this, but so far, amongst all the Base Commanders I knew, he was one of the nicest. He could be a bit of an ass at times, but he was able to keep his head together when in missions. It was critical to do this; a bad start could easily turn into a shitty mission.

“That's only if we both make it through this alive,” Base Command chirped back.

At this point, Rowdy decided to jump in. “Of course we will,” he said. “We're gonna make quick work on those Belkans. Right, rookie?”

There was a laugh from Cipher as he replied, “We’ll send them running back home with their tails between their legs.” The change in mood, although unsurprising, was not unwelcome. It was good to see him taking the sudden flight lead thing lightly.

“Great enthusiasm there for a rookie, Cipher,” I remarked, chuckling a bit. He reminded me of how giddy Blackhawk was on his first flight. Rookies.

As if reading my thoughts, Cipher bit back, “A rookie who somehow became the flight lead over you.”

There was a round of hoots and catcalls after that one. Because really, who would’ve thought? I certainly didn’t, and I made it clear to him when I said in mock anger, “ HEY!”

“Don't get cocky, kiddo,” Base Command said. “You better do a great job protecting this base. If not, there'll be no base to return to.”

I laughed. Like I said, one of the nicest Base Commanders ever. “Trust me, there WILL be a base to return to. If there isn't any, I'll personally kick that rookie in the ass.”

“What the h-“ Cipher began, but before he could finish, Base Commander said again, laughing, “Sounds like a plan, Galm 2.”

I grinned to myself. Everything seemed to be going on smoothly. We would definitely kick those Belkans in the asses. “Be ready to pay up. We’ll be back before you know it.”


	3. GLACIAL SKIES (Part II)

I noticed the arrival of the Belkans in my plane’s radar. Crap. I pulled the plane into a barrel roll, feeling more than a bit excited at the almost distant rumble of the Eagle’s engine. The feel of raw power was almost overwhelming. Even with the thousands of hours I’ve flown, every mission still felt like the first one. Flying does that to you. Every flight was different, there was no two identical missions. Each would be different than the last, and just the thought of it was exhilarating.

I was still doing another barrel rolls when Base Command spoke again, “Galm Team, shoot down all enemy bombers. Don’t let them get to our base.” I pulled out of my barrel roll just as he continued, “Galm 2, follow all orders from Galm 1. Free engagement is prohibited during this operation.”

I rolled my eyes. He must’ve seen my barrel rolls. Oh, well. “Roger. Awaiting your orders, Cipher. You’re Galm 1 now.”

“Uh... Okay then. Let's spread out and attack the Belkans at will.”

Huh. That was quick. I grinned, “Pixy, roger. Leave 'em to me!” At that exact second, I saw an enemy plane. From the looks of it, it was an F-5. Probably. It wasn’t long before I got behind it and pressed the trigger. The cannons in my Eagle roared to life, and I saw the tracers riddling holes in the airplane’s frame. Within seconds, the aircraft exploded, and, out of habit, I shouted, “Got him!”

Robin, as strict as ever, said, “Confirmed kill for Galm 2.” As if it was necessary.

“Now it's my turn,” Cipher said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him going after an F-4. The plane tried to run away from him, but Cipher had already peppered him with bullets. Out of instinct, I laughed. Ever since Cipher had arrived on base, there were rumors spreading around about him. Even more so that he was from Nostrand. Some of the stories were outrageous; that he was a merciless fighter, a true gladiator. At least no one suggested that he was a Belkan spy. It wasn't that it wouldn’t happen. It still could. In thought of this, I said, “Cipher, I've heard stories about you. That pride's gonna get you killed, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” Cipher replied, laughing. “You're Belkan. Your pride's probably bigger that the size of Osea.”

I frowned. I haven’t even told him that I’m Belkan. How did he know? “Yeah?” I said, trying my best to ignore it. “At least I'm living up to it.”

Cipher snorted. “Doesn't seem like it. Enemy plane on your six.”

I looked back and sure enough, there was a plane at my six. I grinned. Despite the fact that the situation could turn worse really quickly, I noticed that the plane was flying unsteadily; it was already a wee bit damaged, probably from the Halo Squadron. All the easier for me. “Ah, hell. It won't be there for long. Watch and learn, rookie.” As I said so, I jerked my stick back and decreased my throttle, forcing my plane to a sudden stop. When it was near the point of stalling, the plane shot past me. I increased the throttle and leveled my plane again. The plane was dead in my sights. Several seconds later, he was gone. “Got 'im.”

“Showoff,” Cipher commented, going after a new target. I was so caught up with the heat of the battle and the feeling of finally flying again that I almost completely forgot that Halo Squadron was with us. Luckily, Lance decided to remind us of their presence. “Pixy. Cipher. Shut up,” he said, rolling his plane over mine. I almost expected him to flip me off, but he didn’t. “You're making me lose my concentration here.”

I laughed. “Hey. It's not like you're doing much shooting anyways.”

“HEY!” Lance shouted, almost to the point of deafening me. Damn headphone radios. “Watch your mouth, Galm 2.”

Putting my plane as close to his as I dared (which left about three feet of space between us), I said, “Well, you can't prove it, can you?”

There was a tense laughter from Lance. “Really? Watch this.” He brought his plane behind an F-5. Two missiles went for him, and the plane exploded. “Lance, Fox Two!”

“Hmm… Not shabby for a newbie,” I said, humming under my breath. Because, really, I knew Lance could do much better than that. I knew how good of a shooter he actually was. He was holding back.

“Ah, just leave it, Lance,” Rowdy interjected, bringing his plane to a position in front of the both of us. “It's hard to argue with an old-timer like him.”

“Old-timer?!” I laughed. “Hey, get back here.”

“Hey, you are older than most of us,” Cipher said, snickering. Great. Now everyone is ganging up on me.

I huffed. “Hey, if I'm old, then what does that make of Robin?” It was a low blow, but I had to get all the attention somewhere else. No way I’m spending the rest of this mission being trash-talked by everyone, less of all Cipher. He might be my flight lead, but he’s still a rookie. He needed to know his place.

“Guys, shut it,” Robin grumbled. He was the most distant plane between all of us, already going in deep in the enemy formation. He a bit more eager than usual. “Let's get this job over with and suck up a little hot wine.” That explains it.

Rowdy laughed. “Sounds like drinks will be on you today, Halo 1.” Trust Rowdy to look for every chance of free drinks.

“As old of a geezer as Robin is, I'm just glad he still knows how to have fun,” Lance said, laughing as well. It was an old joke, since Robin was really the oldest. He was at least ten years older than me. Go figure.

“Old geezer?” Cipher said, just a bit incredulous.

Rowdy chuckled, going after yet another plane. “Yeah. Can you imagine if he goes all "if-you-go-against-my-orders-I-will-personally-send-you-all-to-hell"?”

Robin began grumbling again. “How about you shut your yaps or I'll have you go fifty 'round the base with a pack of stones?”

I thought that was a bit harsh. He really must’ve been in a really bad mood today. “You do that and I'll steal your stash of whatever-you-hid-under-the-snow-behind-the-barracks,” Lance said. Everyone knew about Robin’s secret stash, but no one dared to actually look for it. Respect and all that, after all. We did have a bet going on about what it was. My guess was that it was a stash of snacks. Scarlet bet that it was stash of secret letters he’d been getting, while Rowdy and Lance swore up and down that it was all booze. As likely as the scenario was, I’ve never actually seen Robin drunk except during drinks with all of us, and I’ve made sure that he didn’t drink any extras without being seen. So… it could still be anything.

“Now how did you find that out?” Robin asked, clearly surprised. He shouldn’t think he’s being subtle, because he really wasn’t. As if to voice my thoughts, Rowdy chuckled, “You're really not a ninja, Robin.”

“You know this, too, Rowdy?” Robin asked again, somehow sounding even more surprised than before. Scarlet laughed, “Hell, I think everyone knows.”

“I don't,” Cipher quipped. I mentally sighed. The kid really needed to work on his ability to shut up. Not that I could say anything, though. Otherwise, I’d be a hypocrite. “Well, he's a rookie, so don't mind 'im,” I said, grinning.

“Hey, even this rookie can tell that the so-called stash wouldn't be donuts,” Cipher bit back, laughing even as he said it. “That would be a cliché.”

I was about to point out that Robin wasn’t a cop when said Captain said incredulously, “Did you check my stash when I wasn't looking, Cipher?”

Oh my God… “Umm... No, I didn't. Why would I?” Cipher said. He sounded confused. I couldn’t blame him. Robin groaned, “Don't tell me that was a lucky guess!”

As the realization of what had happened dawned on me, I froze in utter shock. The stash, which we had been betting on for weeks, was actually donuts. It was actually, legit, donuts! Of all things! “Wait, I was right?” Cipher exclaimed. It wasn’t long before I said, “It was actually donuts?” Because really, I had to know.

“My God,” Lance said with a groan. “Our Captain IS an old geezer.”

Our surprise was taken away, however, when Base Commander radioed, “You idiots... Shut up and get them before they blow us all to hell!” Whoops. We must’ve forgotten that we were in the middle of a mission.

To his credit, Robin did manage to sound genuinely sorry when he said, “Sorry, Base Command. Halo Squadron, cut all chatter.”

“Righty-o, Mr. Donut,” Scarlet said with a laugh. For a few seconds, it was silent until Base Commander said again, “Aren't you going to say anything, Galm 1?”

Did he really expect the rookie to tell me to shut up?! “Well, you DID tell me to shut up,” Cipher pointed out, and I wasn’t sorry that I laughed at that one. He had some guts to back talk a superior like that.

“Fine, fine,” Base Command grumbled. “Continue with operation.”

Speaking of rookies… I scoured the sky, wondering where the hell Cipher was. Because he sure wasn’t on my wing like a pilot would do in a normal formation. Although truthfully, he did say to “spread out and attack the Belkans at will”.

I found him quite some distance away from me, fighting against a group of planes. I had to admit, he was good. He fooled his opponent with a stall turn before ripping the F-5 to shreds with his guns. Robin must’ve been watching as well, because right after it happened, he shouted, “Enemy down! Courtesy of Galm 1!”

If Cipher had heard it, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he went to join Scarlet who was in the middle of going after a bomber. I couldn’t tell what it was. It looked really, really old. I wondered if the Belkans really didn’t think that highly of Valais to send such flimsy bombers against our base.

“That bomber looks ancient,” Scarlet commented as Cipher joined her, somewhat moving away to give him some space.

“Well, I think I'm going to give it a new look,” Cipher said. “Cipher, Fox 2!” Two missiles were launched from his plane and struck the bomber dead center. I grinned, going after a bomber myself. There was no way I was going to let him steal the show.

“One enemy bomber down. Continue with operation,” came the radio transmission from Base. I realized that it wasn’t the Base Commander; it must’ve been the guys at the Control Tower. I locked onto the bomber and said, “Got one dead in my sights. Galm 2, Fox Three!” I launched an AMRAAM; I needed a missile with a longer range to shoot the bomber from the distance I was with the target. Actually, it was so far away, but the AMRAAM did the trick. It was a BVRAAM after all.

“2 nd enemy bomber down,” Control Tower confirmed. “Stay sharp out there!”

“Ha!” I heard Lance laughing over the radio. “I’m gonna come out on top today.”

“Like hell I’ll let you,” Rowdy answered. It wasn’t unexpected. Those two were always inseperable. “I’m gonna earn every penny of that money today.”

“You’re not a mercenary,” I reminded him. He really was getting a bit too far. “Stop talking like one.”

At the same time, I heard Lance shouting over the radio, “What the- Rowdy, that was mine!”

Looks like someone has been stealing targets. “Seeing as how I shot it down, it’s mine now,” Rowdy said, and I laughed. Because really, stealing targets like that was just ridiculous and seemed downright desperate. The bugger must’ve been more than eager to win.

“Damn you…” Lance muttered.

“Gotta keep up, Lance.”

Deciding that adding a bit to the fray wouldn’t hurt too much, I chimed in, “Easier than getting a candy from a baby, huh, Rowdy?”

“Ya betcha,” Rowdy laughed, at the same time Lance muttered, “Fuck off, Pixy.” Uh-oh.

“Let’s keep all curse words off the radio chatter, shall we, boys?” And there goes Captain Serious. It seemed like he now had another victim for the Swear Jar. Not that the rule was always executed perfectly. Us pilots cursed too much for most people to keep track of.

Out of nowhere, there was another transmission. “This is Otto 5. IFF is out of commission. Unable to carry out duty. Withdrawing from operation airspace.” I frowned. There were no units with the callsign Otto in our base, lest of all in the skies right now. It couldn’t be one of us, but there was no other explanation. Unless… We must’ve been hearing the enemy transmission. How or why, I had no idea. Maybe we used the same frequency. Even then, why would we be using the same frequency?

Suddenly I had a really bad feeling about Cipher.


	4. GLACIAL SKIES (Part III)

“One of the bombers has left the battlefront,” Robin announced, confirming my thoughts. “He must’ve chickened out.”

“Why would he leave after getting this far?” I asked, trying to find out if we had the same thoughts. I couldn’t ask him outright because, well, Cipher was with us. He would hear us, and who knows what he would do if he was an actual spy?

Speaking of which… “Technical malfunction, maybe?” Cipher said, his plane just barely visible through the curtain of falling snow. Damn bad weather… I couldn’t even tell if Cipher was chasing an enemy or not. “I dunno. I think I’ve heard him saying his IFF’s broken.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I replied. “Why and how in hell are we hearing the enemy?” There was a chance he might make a slip and say something suspicious. I just had to be ready to pick it up.

“No idea,” Cipher said. “Does it matter?”

Well… Not really. Depends on who you ask, though. “Not really,” I replied. “It’s just… HOLY SHIT!!!”

I froze. Right in front of me, a Belkan plane was flying STRAIGHT TOWARDS me. It was probably just a hundred feet away from hitting me. Time seemed to slow down as I jerked the control stick to the left, putting the plane in a barrel roll. My Eagle’s reaction – even though I knew that it was in perfect condition – felt sluggish. I was worried that I wouldn’t pull it off. It seemed like an eternity as we passed each other with barely a feet separating us. We were so close that if I just stuck my hand out, I could’ve touched the underbelly of his F-4 Phantom. It was almost surreal.

The spell ended as soon as I shot past him, and I cursed, “Dammit!” Really. Having your life flash before you seconds before impending impact was NOT a fun experience. I was so sure I would die right then and there. As a soldier, you always wondered when your time would come. You always wondered if you were the next one. It was kind of sad. Wars did that to everyone. It was terrifying as it was also mesmerizing in its own peculiar way. I hated it, and yet, the thrill of it kept me going on and on.

“What happened?” Cipher asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. And just like that, I was back in the middle of the battle.

“Damn plane nearly ran into me,” I answered. I quickly looked around for that plane. I had to pay him back for that little stunt. Shooting your enemy is acceptable; that is how you win. But ramming straight into them? That’s cowardice. I hadn’t realized the Belkan Air Force was so desperate that they’d stoop that low. Now that I knew, though, I was on guard. There was no way they’d get me again.

At that moment, I spotted the plane. I grinned and went after him. “Come ‘ere, you little…”  The enemy didn’t seem to notice that I was there. He just kept going in a straight line. It wasn’t hard for me to line myself up behind him for a shot. “Pixy, Fox 2!” I let loose a missile from under my wing. It had no trouble to track down the F-4 and obliterate it.

Bull’s-eye.

“Looks like they wanna finish us off,” I heard Lance say over the radio. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that he was some ways behind me, and was in the perfect position to see me nearly being rammed into earlier. He must’ve seen it. Then, I noticed that someone was chasing him. “This one’s on me like a leech!”

I slammed on the brakes and did a tight loop to turn around, heading straight over to him. “Not when I’m around,” I said, already locking onto the enemy. “Hang on, Lance. I’ll get him outta your six.” This – the teamwork between air force squads and mercenary teams – was the reason Valais got this far (and hopefully help Ustio regain its territory and win this god-forsaken war).

Within seconds, the enemy plane was nothing but smithereens, and Lance wasn’t even damaged. At least, apart from a few bullet holes here and there. “Not so high and mighty now, are you, Lance?” Rowdy teased, getting to his rightful place on Lance’s wing. Even though I knew he couldn’t see me, I glared at his direction before leaving to handle some more enemies. He shouldn’t have left Lance alone like that; he was his wingman after all. Too much of us pilots have died because of simple mistakes like that.

“Shut up, Rowdy,” Lance scolded, sounding (rightfully) grumpy. “Thanks, Pix. I owe you one.”

“No problem,” I answered, going after another enemy plane. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“I don’t intend to.”

I quickly shot down the plane I was after. It was an old F-5 and was no match for my newer Eagle. I looked around, hoping to spot Cipher. When I couldn’t see him, I looked to the radar. And voila! He was actually 5,000 feet above me, going after a stray Belkan plane. Why a Belkan went that high up, I had no idea, but I was glad that Cipher caught on to him. Who knew what he could have done had he gone on unnoticed? On that note, I went up to join him. Two heads are always better than one.

When I got there, though, I saw that the plane was no ordinary plane. It was an F-117; a spy plane. It would’ve been undetected by the radar had he not been carrying a shitload of bombs under its wings. I growled as I realized what his real plans were; to bomb Valais while we were distracted by the fighters and the bombers below us. It actually explained why they were only using old bombers for the bombing squadron. They were just decoys; the real one was high up.

Thankfully for everyone, Cipher managed to shoot it down. “Galm 1 shot down a bandit!” I cheered. I couldn’t help myself. Cipher might as well just saved all of us from being blown to bits. Well, technically, he saved the guys on Valais, but it was still the same thing.

“See?” Cipher laughed. “That so-called "pride" you said I have wasn't so hard to live up to.“

He was getting cocky. It was eerily like how cocky Blackhawk was. “That’s enough babbling,” I said. I had enough reminder of how I let Blackhawk down. I didn’t need any more of it.

“Something wrong, Pixy?” Cipher asked. My reaction must’ve confused him. “It’s none of your business,” I replied, going back down to where the battle was raging on. “Just drop it, Cipher.”

“Pixy?”

“I said drop it!” I snapped. Somehow, I noticed that there was no more radio chatter on the background. The guys must’ve been listening in on us. Nosey bastards.

The silence was finally broken by a dejected, “Fine,” from Cipher. Feeling a bit bad, I looked for him. He was no longer in the high skies. Like me, he had gone down to see the battle. Only, unlike me, he hadn’t been paying attention so well. There was a plane behind him. He was so fixated on the bomber in front of him that he didn’t notice the enemy lining up for a shot at him.

“Watch out!” I shouted, turning my plane simultaneously to help him. “The enemy’s locked on to you!”

“Huh?” Cipher muttered. He hadn’t even moved, and the plane was getting closer. “Hey, when did you get back there?”

I was still too far to help him when a missile went for him from the enemy plane. For a second, everything stopped, and Cipher’s Eagle metamorphosed to Blackhawk’s XF-90. It was all too real. 

It was sickening.

“Galm 1! Missile! Missile inbound!”

I could only watch as the missile got closer to Cipher. This time, Cipher didn’t just stay still. He moved his plane, pointing its nose straight to the sky. The missile followed his movement, but Cipher was much, much faster. He placed distance between them easily. Just as I was feeling relieved that he wasn’t hit, he suddenly braked, forcing his plane to stall and head straight to the ground. I gaped. I knew he was crazy, but not to that extent. What happened after was even crazier. Somehow, in the short time he’d bought himself, Cipher managed to lock onto the enemy plane and send a missile at him. And as if it wasn’t enough, he also managed to somehow roll out of the way of the earlier missile, allowing it to continue its trajectory upwards and explode harmlessly in the sky. To top it off, his own missile managed to hit the enemy plane.

“He dodged it,” I muttered, still too shocked to say anything else. I didn’t care if he was only a trainee from Nostrand. All I knew was that he was crazy good. A bit suicidal, perhaps. Okay, he was really suicidal. But it worked. 

“Looks like you’ll be giving Pixy a run for his money, Cipher,” Rowdy said with a laugh. Looks like the whole gang watched Cipher’s stunt.

“Give a run for- I’ll give you a run for your money, Rowdy.” I lined myself up. In front of me was a wide open space with practically nothing except a squad of bombers and fighters, probably the second wave of Belka’s invasion on Valais. They didn’t seem to notice my presence, as they didn’t move away or make any attempt to get away. To be fair, they were still far away. None of my regular missiles would’ve locked onto them. What they didn’t know was that I had AMRAAMs. Those babies packed a sucker punch and could sneak on them like a fox. They’d never see it coming. I let loose all four of them remaining at once, shouting, “Pixy, Fox Three!”

The results? Two fighters down and two bombers hit. The hit bombers seemed to be damaged pretty badly, since they didn’t continue their pursue and just turned around for a retreat. “Bandits down,” I announced.

Scarlet laughed. “Looks like Galm 2 is gonna steal the show again.”

“Come on, Pixy,” Lance whined. “Leave a few for us, will ya?”

“Just look at all the kills you racked up so far,” Rowdy pointed out. “Don’t you have enough fighters downed for one day?”

“Don’t blame me. It’s Cipher who shot them down. Not me.” It was actually true. All I shot so far were (mostly) bombers. If anyone was doing a major killing of the Belkan fighters, it would be either the Halo Squad or Cipher. And seeing as Rowdy and Lance were shooting their mouths off rather than shooting the Belkans…

“Says the guy who just shot down a bomber himself,” Cipher drawled.

I grinned. “Well, it is our job to shoot them down, you know?”

“But at least let us get some of them!” Lance whined again.

“The world won’t end just because you let your prey go, Pixy,” Scarlet said, agreeing with Lance.

She was right, but we couldn’t take unnecessary risks at war. “The world might not end, but our base might end up a crater on the ground.”

“I don’t think they’d blow it up with a nuke,” Cipher said, sounding a bit worried. “The Belkans aren’t that crazy, are they?”

I really had no idea if they were that crazy. All I knew was that I could be a bit crazy at times. It was possible that all Belkans were like that. All my friends (that were Belkan) were like that, so I assumed that it was the case. Still, it’s better not to take risks. “Let’s not find out and just stop them. Galm Team can finish this job and anything else they throw at us.”

Just as I expected, there was a howl of indignation from everyone at Halo Squadron at that remark. “What are we? Chopped liver?!” Rowdy shouted angrily. I knew they wouldn’t just let us get a jab at them and get away with it.

“If some of them Belkans escape the grasp of the "almighty Solo Wing Pixy", us the Halo Squadron will take care of them,” Robin said, joining in to “defend” his squadron’s honor. Air Force pilots…

“I don't know... Considering that the four of you lot couldn't stop eight fighters last time... I don't think so.”

There was a scoff over the radio. “Thanks for that vote of confidence, Galm 2,” Robin said again. “Now get back to your flight lead and stop bickering with my wingmen.”

“It would be easier if I could actually find my flight lead…” It was the truth. Somehow, after that crazy stunt, Cipher slipped from my watch. How, I had no idea. I hoped it wasn’t because he was shot down…

“Hey, you know I can hear you, right?” It was Cipher. Guess that answered my question.

There was a groan over the mic. “All of you are idiots,” Gil muttered, before continuing, “All right, Halo Squad. There’s another wave of bombers heading our way. Form up on me. Time to wipe out these Belkans.”

In all reality, that wasn’t such a bad idea. The other bombers were practically shot down or too damaged to continue, so we might as well head out to greet the newcomers. If only I could- No need. There he was, already heading out to follow Robin. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Cipher was following the “spread out and attack at will” plan a bit too much.

I was beginning to follow them when I saw Cipher go after a bomber. He went straight at him, not caring that an escort Belkan fighter was beginning to take interest in his plane.


	5. GLACIAL SKIES (Part IV)

“Watch out,” I warned him. “The enemy’s tracking you on radar.”

I saw his plane rolled out of the way as he laughed, “I got it. Don’t be such a worry wart.”

“With all your crazy flying, someone’s bound to be one!” I replied.

“Hey, I survived this long, didn’t I?” Cipher argued.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah… Smartass.”

As soon as he took care of the escort plane, Cipher went back to getting after the bomber. “Uh-oh.”

What now? “What uh-oh?” I groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re shot down.” Because if he did, I would shoot him down. Even a near-sighted guy could see that his plane was still all right.

“If I’m shot down, I wouldn’t be talking to you in the first place.” A valid point.

“…You have a point there.”

“Pixy, run an ammo check, will ya?” Now that was unusual. Why would he- Oh. My ammo was quite low, it turned out. This battle was longer than I thought, thanks to some people who couldn’t shut up.

“Wait a sec… I’ve got half my gun and five missiles.” Sadly for me, no AMRAAMs. Which meant that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t shoot down anyone targeting Cipher. They were out of range by a long way.

“My gun’s less than half and I’m winchester on missiles.” Well, if I was bad, Cipher was worse. The rookie would have to use his gun all the way from here.

“Why do you ask?”

“Can you shoot down this bomber I’m after?”

At this point, Cipher, the bomber and whoever-else-might-be-on-his-tail (if there was any) had gone into the clouds. I couldn’t find them even if I tried. “I can’t see you,” I told him. “Even if I can, I can’t lock on. I’m out of AMRAAMs. Why don’t you use your guns?”

“I would've but the sucker behind that plane's guns got some pretty fancy shooting.” Ah. So it was NOT a fighter that was troubling him. It was the bomber’s gunners. No wonder, then. There was still one problem, though.

“Dammit... I'm on the other side of the airspace...”

There was a bustle of radio chatter out of a sudden. I couldn’t tell what it was, they were all too drowned out by the static. Maybe it was someone a bit further away from me. Or should I say some squadron? “Say no more, Galm 1,” I heard Scarlet say. Her plane appeared from the horizon a second later, going straight towards a cloud formation. At the same time, two planes came out of said cloud formation; a bomber and a fighter. It was Cipher and his bomber. She was quick to get behind them and said, “I'll turn them to scrap metal in no time.”

However, she was a bit too brash in her maneuvering and almost collided with Cipher. Luckily, my wingman had quick reflexes. “Whoa! Hold your horses, Scarlet,” he said, rolling out of Scarlet’s way. “You could've killed me.”

“But I didn't,” Scarlet pointed out. “Live life dangerously once in a while, Cipher. Try to have fun.” As if his flying wasn’t dangerous enough… I didn’t need my flight elad to turn crazier because of Scarlet. I had enough trouble as it was.

I groaned. “Scarlet, I don't need you to encourage him to be any more suicidal than he already is. Stop it.”

“Suicidal?” Cipher inquired.

“Yeah. You’ve got a better name for it? If so, let’s hear it?”

“I’m sure I- Enemy behind us! Scarlet! Jink!”

I immediately turned to find Cipher and Scarlet, already disengaging from the fighter I’d initially wanted to chase. So much for the money I’d get for shooting that one, but they weren’t mandatory targets anyway.

As soon as I saw Cipher, sure enough, there was a plane on his tail. I seriously thought I couldn’t let this guy fly unsupervised. Every time I turned around, he’s have a plane on his tail.

This one almost got him, though. He didn’t shoot with missiles like his comrades did; he shot at Cipher with his guns. Guns were far trickier to evade than missiles, particularly because they were harder to see and because this method allowed an enemy to engage a fighter without warning them by locking on to them.

Sure enough, Cipher sounded like he was in trouble. I heard the bullets hit his plane through background chatter on his radio. I couldn’t see smoke coming out from his plane (which was lucky) but it still didn’t sound good. I saw Scarlet heading over to engage the new bandit, but I was already on the way, even with knowing that she would probably already handle it by the time I got there.

“You bastard!” she shouted, already behind the bandit. “I'll get you for that one. Scarlet, Fox Two! ... Bandit down.”

Finally managing to get to Cipher, I was quick to inspect the damage on his plane. It didn’t look so good. “You’re hit,” I said. “Everything okay, Cipher?”

Distinctly, I noticed Scarlet slipping away from us to rejoin the Halo Squadron. “Don’t sweat it, Pixy,” Cipher said nonchalantly. “It’s nothing.”

I almost had to remind myself that he wasn’t Blackhawk. In a lot of ways, he acted like my old flight lead. And hell if I let him go without checking his plane damage… When the same thing happened to Blackhawk, he ended up with a busted engine and was forced to glide his plane down for the entire landing. FYI, he almost didn’t make it to the runway. “Run a thorough plane check now,” I said sternly to him, hoping he’d get the point. “I don't want to hear any excuses later.”

“Who are you? My instructor pilot?”

I groaned. “Just do it, will ya?”

There was a sigh over the radio. “Fine, fine. Elevators...checked. Ailerons...checked. Rudders...uh-oh.”

Again? Nothing good ever come from everything related to “uh-oh”, and we’ve had two of them so far. Cipher was practically impossible. Even Blackhawk didn’t get into trouble this often. “Cipher, what’s wrong?”

“I think my rudder’s toast.” Looking at his rudder, I saw that he was right. His rudders were destroyed.

“Your rudder's shredded to bits,” I pointed out to him. “I think you need to get ba-“

“I can handle it,” Cipher said, cutting me off.

“Don’t underestimate anything.” That’s the last thing I needed him to do.

Cipher laughed. “I'm not. Now let's get back to the furball. Can't let Halo Squad get all the fun.” Well, if he said so, I couldn’t stop him even if I tried.

It didn’t take long for us to find our way into said furball; the Belkan formation was pretty much scattered, most of them fleeing back to their base. Those who were left were being dealt with by the Halo Squadron. While I knew that they could handle it (not that I would ever admit it) I would rather lend a helping hand anyways. Besides, helping meant more money on my paycheck, and a little dough never hurt anyone. Too bad that all the bombers were already shot down; Lance just shot the last one. All Cipher and I could do was salvage what we could from the fighters. It wasn’t an easy job. Those nasty little buggers were…well, nasty.

“Aw, shoot,” Rowdy remarked. At first, I thought that he was in trouble. “Pixy and Cipher are back.”

Now that I knew that, the next time he’s in a scrap, he would be on his own. “Bet you’re getting much less kills from now on, eh, Rowdy?” Robin laughed. Just to prove a point, I looked around for any target to go after. And it turned out that there was still one bomber left. I had been wrong; the last bomber was not shot down by Lance. It was being chased down by Scarlet.

Not for long…

“Just let them,” Scarlet said to Rowdy. “It’s nothing we can’t han- HEY!”

I grinned to myself as the two missiles I had sent after the bomber struck its target. “Bomber down,” I said, just to add some salt to injury.

“That’s mine, Pixy!” Scarlet shouted, indignance lacing her voice. I merely laughed. “I don’t have time for that. It’s every man for himself.”

“I’m a woman, ya nitwit,” Scarlet pointed out. Which was true. “Be a gentleman and let a lady get her fill.”

There was a howl of laughter from the others at that one. All of them knew that Scarlet got me good. I groaned. “Fine, it’s every PERSON for themselves. Happy now?”

“You’re impossible,” Scarlet laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh back.

“And proud of it.”

“Hey, now,” Robin said, flying up to Scarlet’s wing. “Stop flirting, you two.”

“Jealous, Robin? Calm your engines. I’ll back off your girl. Now where’s my flight lead?” Yeah… I was ashamed to admit that I had lost track of Cipher… again.

Lance wasted no time to give me hell for it. “You lost him AGAIN? You’re a bad wingman, Pixy.”

Luckily for me, I found him quickly enough. He was in the tail of yet another fighter. How many did that rookie shot down anyway? “There he is-“ All of a sudden, I saw a plane going after him (again). How many times did that happen in one mission? “Missile inbound! Break! Break!”

Every time I looked away, the kid was practically near death. It was as if the whole Belkan Air Force had decided to go after him. The rookie was going to be the death of me, provided that he managed to keep himself alive long enough to do that.

“Calm down, will ya?” Cipher said. “I threw it off already.”

It wasn’t for long, though. The plane was quick to get back on Cipher’s six. He was actually pretty good. He had to be an ace, or at least an experienced pilot. And considering Cipher was just a trainee, I knew I had to step in. For both our sakes. “Hang on,” I said, already pushing my throttle to the max to go after them. “I’ll get there. Try not to die.”

“Easier said than done…”

The plane threw another missile at Cipher, but he managed to dodge it. They played cat-and-mouse for a while; Cipher making crazy turns and barrel rolls to escape and the enemy matching his moves with frightening accuracy. Frankly, I was impressed that Cipher survived that long.

Aiming my plane towards the enemy “ace,” I peppered his plane with bullets. I watched him beginning to trail smoke for a while before exploding. “That’s one less plane to worry about,” I reported.

“Thanks for clearing my six, buddy,” Cipher said, his voice obviously cheerful. I couldn’t help but grin at that. A lot of mercenaries were strictly professional, keeping a business-only attitude and only caring for themselves. However funny it might sounded, Cipher didn’t strike me as that type.

The moment was ruined when my missile alert began to scream at my ears. At the same time, Cipher shouted, “Pixy! Enemy on your tail! Jink! Jink!”

I didn’t have time to react before an explosion shook my plane. I was rocked forward by the impact of what seemed like a missile, but thankfully I managed to keep myself from hitting my head on the canopy. To my surprise, only a small amount of warning lights were turned on. If I was hit, it should’ve been more catastrophic than this.

I got my answer not a moment too soon. “The missile blew off your right wing,” Cipher said. “Anything busted?”

That explained it. “Nah, I’m good. Now to get that bastard.”

“Too late,” Cipher said, sounding far too smug for my liking. “I splashed him.”

It turned out that Cipher didn’t make a bad wingman. Maybe he should’ve been Galm Two. At least he wouldn’t lose his flight lead every five minutes or so. But that was still up for debate. After all, this mission was the only one where I’d flown with him. It was interesting, to say the least.

Speaking of missions…

“Base Command to Galm Team,” Base Command radioed in. “The enemy attack unit has been successfully intercepted. All planes, job well done! You’ll be paid well for this.”

I grinned. It was my first mission after Blackhawk, and it was a successful one, too. I looked back to find Cipher at my wing, even though he was the flight lead. As I looked back at his plane, I realized that it looked…ordinary. The Eagle was too military; it lacked the paint schemes that were normally associated with mercenaries. And I knew for sure that Cipher wasn’t in an Air Force anymore.

It looked like I would have to teach him the “rules” of being a mercenary. “Cipher,” I said, thinking carefully of what I was about to say. “I got a feeling you and me are gonna get along just fine… Buddy.”

“Okay, pal,” Cipher said, obviously feeling chipper. “Let’s get back to base. It’s getting too cold to suit me.”

“You hate snow?” I teased. If that was the case, I sure as hell knew what I would be doing as a pastime now.

“Not really. Just don’t fancy it much.” My mind was made up. I would definitely hit Cipher with a snowball sometime in the near future.

“Race back to base?”

Cipher snorted. “You’re gonna lose.”

If the rookie thought that, he would have a whole other thing coming. “Not a chance.”

“It’s on.”

In the end, I did win that race. But as I landed on the tarmac, I could help but think that…he had potential.


	6. how to (not) find out your wingman's first name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm just going to add some in-between missions chapters... They can get kinda long, though. And a bit off track. Soo...
> 
> Read on :)

I was lounging around in my bed, just reading a book when someone banged on the door like they were trying to wake up the dead. "Door's open!" I shouted. The door opened and sure enough, it was Viktor Malkin. He was a good guy, but sometimes, the Yuktobanian really needed to learn when he needed to tone it down a bit. "What's wrong?"

"The rookie," Viktor said, not missing a beat. He looked downright unhappy. "He suspicious? Need me to kick his ass?"

Somehow, I must've forgotten to told him after the mission yesterday. But in all honesty, he told me to keep an eye on Cipher, not to tell him what I found while keeping said eye on my flight lead.

"And why you make him flight lead?"

I shrugged. "It's easier for me to keep an eye on him if he was my flight lead."

Viktor looked downright sceptic of what I just said, so I clarified it a bit. "I'm behind him. There's no way for him to do anything without me seeing him." I would never – never, I tell you – admit to Viktor that I lost him several times during the mission. Not in a million years.

"Weird logic, Foulke," Viktor remarked, scowling as he sat down on my desk. "Weird, even for you."

"Is it weird weird, or just weird?"

Viktor growled. Sometimes, I had to remind myself that English wasn't the guy's first language. Not that it was mine, either. It was just... I had been a mercenary for so long, working for English-speaking countries for so long, that I found myself now thinking in English most of the time and not Belkan. It wasn't that far-fetched. If I was bad, Blackhawk was way worse. By the time he was working for Ustio, his Belkan was so rusty that he could only stick to simple greetings and normal, casual talks.

"Fine, I get it," I said in defeat. Comprehensible English was probably best to use when you deal with Malkin. "But I have always been Galm 2. It's... hard to change things."

It took a while for Viktor to take it in, but once he did, he nodded in understanding. "Okay," he said. "But watch out. He make bad calls, risk team, risk mission, he die."

What else could I expect from him? "I can't argue with that," I agreed (somewhat). "But from what I've seen, he's a good guy, Vik. Just trust him. I trust him. You trust me in this?"

"Enough to not kill him on sight."

I guess that was all I could hope for. "That's all I'm asking for. So... How's the squadron?" Being pissed about Cipher couldn't be the only reason Viktor looked the way he did. He looked ready to murder someone. Even if he said he'd kill Cipher if he had to, I didn't think he would really do that.

To be this pissed, something must've happened to his squadron. The Tiger Squadron was the only thing that could make him tick. Well... that and some other reasons. But the squadron was usually a sure bet. "Shark and Kobra are relocated to another squadron."

I winced. Shark and Kobra were the two mercenaries assigned with Tiger Squadron. I was right. It might not be the actual squadron, but it was pretty close. "Who's replacing them?"

"Several new guys," Viktor answered, idly fiddling with a pen on the desk. "Two of them. Called themselves Green Hornets."

I smirked a bit. The name sounded...weird. "Are they good?"

Viktor shook his head. "No idea. Cocky, lazy bastards. Supposed to arrive here soon. Tomorrow, maybe. Only meet them over radio. Sound really annoying, just like-"

Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. I couldn't help but wonder how weird it was. Usually, people only come to see me for mission briefings, and that knock sure as hell didn't sound like Richie's. Richie was Ovechkin's second-in-command. He liked to round up all of us for briefings, even when it wasn't his job.

"Come in," I said for the second time that day.

The door opened, and, to my surprise, it was Cipher who poked his head in. "Hi," he began saying. "Sorry to bother you, but- Oh. I'll come by another time, then."

His eyes were fixed at Viktor's direction, and from his worried face, the Yuktobanian must've been glaring at him. If anyone's glare could kill, it would be Viktor's.

Cipher was about to head out when Viktor said, "No need. I'm done anyways." Cipher looked like he was ready to protest, but Viktor was having none of it. "Seriously. Go talk to your wingman. I head over to meet the Tigers."

Before Cipher could say a word, Viktor was already out of the room. He turned to face me, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry," he said again. "I didn't know that-"

"It's fine," I said, waving him off. "Viktor said so, too. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Cipher nodded. Then, he fully stepped into the room, and I noticed that he was carrying a duffel bag. What in the hell was going on? "Um, the Base Commander released me from the infirmary."

"I've noticed as much."

"Yeah... Well, he told me that I'm assigned here."

He couldn't be serious... "You're my roommate?" It wasn't that I didn't like the idea. It's just... It would take some getting used to. While I was definitely NOT used to having to stay in an empty room where Blackhawk used to stay with me, the idea that Blackhawk was really gone hadn't really gotten into my head. I knew that he was gone for a while now, but the idea was just hard to grasp. The fact that he was my only wingman in my entire career didn't help, either. Nor did the fact that I technically had replaced Blackhawk with Cipher.

"Basically, yeah," Cipher answered, interjecting into my thoughts. "If you mind... Maybe I can transfer to a new room."

A new flight lead, and already I gave him the wrong impression. It would be one long war if I couldn't get along with my wingman. "It's perfectly fine," I said, hoping that he'd buy it. "I was just... Well, my room's a bit messy."

Cipher chuckled. "I've noticed as much," he said, quoting me back. I glared at him, but said nothing. My room really was a mess. There were several books scattered here and there. I still had a pile of clothes (and one flight suit) that I had yet to give to the laundry staff. Not to mention, there were a lot of pieces of paper lying around the place.

A bit messy would be an understatement. "This mess alright with you?"

"I've lived with worse," Cipher said, dropping his bag to the floor. He glanced around before looking back at me. "So I take it that you take the top bunk?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "You got a problem with that? Just remember. I've stayed here longer."

"I'm the flight lead," Cipher argued back. And wow, that one actually stung. I've never thought I'd live to see a decision of mine biting me back in the ass.

"You want top bunk?"

"Nah," Cipher answered to my surprise, picking up his duffel bag and tossing it onto the lower bunk. "I like the lower one, actually."

"Why?" I asked. Because I had to know. People usually prefer the top bunks.

"If I fell off, there wouldn't be as much of a fall."

"You're weird," I pointed out to him. "Why would you fall off a bed?"

He glared at me. "I never did it on purpose. The last time I fell was when my b- when someone else had taken the lower bunk."

I frowned. That slip-up... He changed his answer. Why? He was hiding something, that much I could tell. Perhaps it didn't matter. It didn't feel like it mattered. It just sparked my curiosity a bit.

"I ended up breaking my arm," Cipher finished, somehow managing to grin as he said so. Breaking bones were no painful matter. How could he grin about it?

"Did you hit your head while you're at it? If so, that could explain your suicidal tendencies."

Cipher glared at me at that remark. "I'm not suicidal."

"How many times did you almost die in the last mission?" I asked him. "If it's more than five, then you're suicidal."

"Our job has a high mortality rate," Cipher argued. "Besides, near-deaths are the reason I signed up."

Even though I could see his point, in my opinion, Cipher was crazy. Like, he was officially, legit crazy. I wondered how he survived this long. Then again, he hadn't been in the air as long as I had. Maybe his craziness would be more prominent as time progressed, not that I was looking forward to it. He was crazy enough as it was. Near-deaths, while exhilarating, were not something I looked for in a battle. I had had enough of dying in the past; I didn't want to add any more to my list. Just that one time with the ripped wing was enough. And I certainly didn't plan to have "Larry "Solo Wing Pixy" Foulke; Dying repeating the stunt that got him his name" as my epitaph. Or any variation of that. Ever.

With a start, I realized that I didn't know Cipher's real name. Well, I know that his last name was Jackson. Otherwise, he wouldn't call himself 2nd Lieutenant Jackson. But what was his first name?

"What's wrong?" Cipher said, pulling me out of my thoughts. With embarrassment, I realized that I had been staring at him.

"Uhh... I never knew your name."

Cipher blinked at me a few times, as if he didn't believe what I said. And then he laughed. "You're seriously worried about that?" he asked in disbelief. Well, in all fairness, I guess I deserved that. "Well, in that case..."

He stood up and walked over to me, extending his hand out. "Allow me to introduce myself. 2nd Lieutenant A. Jackson."

I frowned as I shook his hand. I already knew that. Why wouldn't he tell me his first name. "2nd Lieutenant Larry Foulke. Nice to meet y- Wait. What should I call you? Jackson?" Don't get me wrong, but calling people by their last names sounded so formal. Only superior officers do that. Just look at Halo Squadron! You can use both hands to count how many times Robin had to remind the others to call with their callsigns, but you'd still lose your count.

"My friends used to call me Jack," Cipher answered. "So... Does that I mean I should call you Larry?"

I shrugged. "Up to you. But if you get to call me by my first name, then I get to call you by yours."

"Like I said, just call me Jack. Everyone does."

"Your first name, not a nickname made from your last name. What did the "A" stand for?"

Cipher sighed. "It stands for the letter "A"."

Seriously? His name must be that bad if he wouldn't tell it to me. "So... Archibald?"

"No."

"Azriel?'

"What kind of name is that?"

"Well, you won't tell me yours! So it's gotta be bad!"

"What have I gotten myself into..."

"Arizona?"

"You're not giving up are you?"

"Nope."

Cipher glared at me, and I glared back at him. The glaring contest continued until my eyes stung. Neither of us wanted to give up. But eventually, he blinked first.

"I win!" I said, whooping and fist-pumping. Call me childish, but I was really curious. Winning this might mean settling this matter once and for all.

"Fine, fine," Cipher grumbled. "If you don't get to call me by my first name, then I don't get to call you by yours."

Seriously? After all that? Now this? "Why are you so adamant about this?"

"Either way, I'm not backing down," Cipher said with a smirk.

"Then how the hell should we call ourselves, then? I'm not settling for last names."

"Why don't we just use our callsigns then? They're not half bad."

I sighed. A long argument, and still no progress on finding out about my flight lead's full name. It was like he had a phobia of it or something. Maybe it was really that bad. But I guess it could be worse. At least now I have a clue; the letter "A". I can settle for callsigns, as long as I get to guess what that letter "A" stands for. "All right," I said. "Callsigns it is, then."


	7. of old homes and new ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right! So if you haven't noticed, an in-between missions chapter will be:  
> 1\. not titled in the name of a mission (obviously)  
> 2\. lowercase.
> 
> (just to clear up any possible confusion :) )

 

When I walked into the mess at lunch, I expected to find Cipher. He wasn't in our room, and he'd left half an hour before lunch time. I figured that he would be there. It would really help if that was the case. I needed to show him the table where the Halo Squadron and Galm Team usually ate. It was common practice for squadrons to eat together at a table. Since Galm Team was paired with Halo Squadron for every mission thus far, we were practically a single unit.

So you could imagine my surprise when I saw that Cipher was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you guys seen Cipher?" I asked the squadron as soon as I sat down, thankfully without spilling anything in my food tray.

Scarlet frowned at me. "Shouldn't you be the one to know that? You're his roommate."

Rowdy laughed. "You're not only a bad wingman, Pixy. You're also a bad roommate."

"Newsflash," Lance chimed in. "Solo Wing Pixy is only good at flying solo."

"Not that surprising. His name has the word 'solo' in it."

"At least it's not Han Solo."

I groaned. It was impossible to talk to this group without getting derailed at least twice. "I'm serious, guys."

There was a sigh from behind me. I turned around, and saw that Robin was staring down at me. "If you must know," he said with a sigh, "your boyfriend took some food and left."

There were gasps of surprise and chokes of laughter at that remark. "He's not-" I began to say, before stopping to take a deep breath. It would do no good to play along. It would be like dousing a fire with fuel. "Never mind that. How are your donuts, Cap?"

Rowdy laughed outright, attracting stares from the tables surrounding ours. Robin sent the onlookers an apologetic look before returning to glare at me. If looks could kill... "They're doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Still can't believe that your stash is actually donuts," Lance grumbled. "What happened to keeping booze as a stash?"

Robin glared at him before cuffing him at the head. "We're on duty all the time, ya dimwit! It's war." He had a point. None of us had a chance of getting drunk and getting away with it. At least, not with Commander Ovechkin around. Nothing in this base happened without him knowing it. Sometimes I wondered if the guy had security cameras everywhere to keep an eye on us. Or maybe he had something else instead. I had no idea.

As Robin moved to sit down next to Scarlet, I noticed that he was carrying a small plastic bag. Once he sat, he placed said bag on the table and opened it. Guess what? It had DONUTS in it. We could only gape in surprise at the dessert before us. It wasn't that we never had donuts, it was just really hard to get them. It was war after all. "I figured I'd share with you guys," Robin said. "It's better than one of you going to steal my stash behind my back."

"How generous of you," Scarlet teased, grabbing a donut herself. The other guys wasted no time in doing the same thing, so I followed their example. There was no way I was letting them eating the last donut without me having a share. And it actually tasted good. It was chocolate.

Unexpectedly, there were two donuts left. Robin took one of them, so there was only one left. "Who's that one for?" Rowdy asked. From the way he was eyeing that donut, I knew that he wanted to get that last donut, too.

"Cipher," Robin answered, taking a bite out of his donut. "But since he's not here..."

Rowdy instantly made a motion to grab the donut, but Robin easily swatted his hand away. "This is for Cipher," he growled, pulling the bag (and the last donut inside) closer to himself so Rowdy couldn't reach it easily. "You're not Cipher. Back off."

"Funny it's you saving his donut and not Pixy," Lance commented. I groaned. Like I said, it was impossible to talk to them without getting derailed. All of them seemed hell-bent to target me with their chirps all the time.

"He's a bad roommate, like we said," Scarlet said.

"Only good at flying."

"Solo."

"I think he's a bad person overall," Robin said, joining in the fiasco. "Bad manners, bad roommate, bad wingman, bad-"

Luckily for me, I had just finished my lunch. "I'm done," I said, hastily standing up and walking away from them. "Better to keep as far away as I can from you lunatics."

Before I was out of earshot, however, Rowdy had time to chirp one less time at me. "Aww, you love us!" I ignored them.

Once I had placed my tray in the kitchen, I walked back to my room. Well, technically, it was our room now, since Cipher and I lived in it. To my surprise, there was no one there. I thought that Cipher was eating in the room, but he wasn't. And he couldn't have finished eating before me, because he didn't put any tray back. Unless he was eating without a tray? I mentally looked at the menu. There was a sandwich available. Maybe he took that. I looked at the trash can to see if there were any sandwich wrappers lying around, but there wasn't any.

Since it was confirmed that Cipher was not in the room, both before and after I walked in, I walked back out again. Usually, I didn't mind other people's business, but Cipher's intrigued me. I was also told by Malkin to keep an eye on him. Who knew? Maybe at this very moment, he could be trying to contact the enemy and spill all our identities to them.

It took me almost an hour to find him, and in that time, I've scoured the entire building twice before deciding to look in the hangars. Like someone once said, it was always in the last place you looked. Cipher was there, sitting on the wing of his plane and staring off at the mountains. Despite the admittedly mesmerizing view, I questioned his sanity. It was at least minus 20 degrees outside, and Cipher was only wearing a hoodie and a pair of shorts. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the idiot was trying to kill himself.

"Hey," I said as I walked next to the wing Cipher was sitting on. Cipher turned to me, allowing me to see what he was doing. Apparently, he was writing in a book. It didn't really add up, actually. He was using a pencil; nobody writes with a pencil. They write with a pen. People draw with-

He couldn't be drawing, could he?

"Hey," Cipher replied, placing the book down next to him. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged as I climbed up the wing to join him. "You didn't show up for lunch." I pointedly glared at the few sandwich wrappers he had next to the book. He followed my gaze and smiled.

"I liked the view," he said. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to try and-"

"Don't worry. It's not mandatory to eat in the mess."

It was silent for a while after that. Both of us just stared at the mountains. I had to say it reminded me of Belka a little bit. The mountain ranges near my home was similar to the one Valais had. And if I remembered it correctly, Nostrand was actually pretty similar, too. A lot of the countries near Belka bore resemblance to the country in terms of the climate and surroundings. Cipher couldn't just be here for sightseeing. He had views just like this in his home country; he'd seen them every day, too. Surely there had to be another reason?

"You don't like crowds?" I asked, hoping to fish something out of him. Cipher turned to shoot a look at me. Bullseye.

"Uh... A bit. And the view's not half bad."

I snorted. "Nostrand had the same thing, didn't they?"

Cipher nodded. "Yeah. But much colder."

"Please tell me you didn't try this stunt back there, too?"

"A couple of times, actually."

I knew it. The kid was suicidal even when he was off-duty. Sometimes I wondered who was crazier; me or him. We were already nearly tied, and I was the one who had the experience advantage. Although, I wondered if he could top off my flying-with-only-one-wing thing. Surely no one would be crazy enough to replicate that.

"Besides," Cipher said, continuing, "I've never tried drawing anything else like this."

Drawing. I was right. Again. "You can do that?"

Instead of answering me, Cipher picked up the book and showed it to me. He wasn't actually lying. There it was, the sketch of the mountains surrounding Valais Air Base. It was actually pretty good. And now, I have yet another thing to add to my list of things that Cipher had that was similar to Blackhawk. Drawing was one of Blackhawk's hobbies. Well, it was his only hobby. He was good at it, although the way he drew was different than Cipher. Cipher's was more...realistic? I think that's the word for it. Blackhawk was more towards the cartoon side. It was actually he who created the Galm Team insignia.

"Whoa," I said, not bothering to hide my surprise. "You drew this?"

Cipher snorted. "Who else would? Casper?"

I frowned at him. "I didn't take you for a Casper fan." Because really, that movie was ridiculous.

"No, but a friend of mind is a – sorry, was – a fan."

"You have any drawings of Nostrand in there?"

"Some," Cipher said, closing the book and placing it down beside him. "I don't really want to talk about it."

While understandable, I wished he'd have said something. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. My country had decimated his; they never took over it, they just killed the majority of people in it. I wondered if the fact I was Belkan made it uncomfortable for him to be fighting alongside me. I had no idea if it had or not. If it had, he made a damn good job at hiding it. A lot of the guys at Valais were wary of me at first, being Belkan and all. But most of them had changed. So much, that Valais were basically home now, especially since I'd refused to give Belka the title.

Who knew? Maybe I could stay here for the rest of my life.

 

_X_

 

There was a knock on my door. Again.

Second- No. Third time today.

But this time, it was recognizedly Richie's.

"Boys, briefing in five!" came the holler through the thin wooden object between us and the Major.

Playtime was over.

"Come on, Cipher," I said, hopping down from my bunk. "We've got a briefing to catch."

Cipher groaned as he stood up, sketch book left on the lower bunk. "I'd prefer if we have Belkans to shoot down." It was a moment before he caught himself, and muttered, "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's all right," I said with a shrug, already in the process of pulling on my flight suit. Cipher did the same, and for a few moments, both of us were silent. Only when we were out of our room did I dare to say something. "Does it ever bother you?"

"What?"

"The fact that I'm Belkan."

It only took a few moments for Cipher to answer. "No," he said. "You're fighting here. That's enough proof of whose side you're on. Besides, I don't really hate the Belkans that much."

Now THAT was surprising. A guy, whose home country was destroyed, held no grudge against the people that destroyed said home country? "Why don't you? You have that chance. No one can grudge you for it."

"I hate the government," Cipher explained. "The people in it...not so much. Back during the siege, the soldiers left more than a few survivors on purpose, most of them kids and families. They didn't like it any more than we do. They hate the fact that they have to kill so many people in such a cowardly way. But orders are orders; they still have to kill, even if they were actually selective about it. If anything, I feel bad for them."

I looked at him, surprised. He must've noticed because after that, he said, "Just imagine having the blood of all those people in your hands. That's not combat. That's murder. Nostrand wasn't the only victim in that ordeal. What about you? Why did you leave Belka?"

I was about to say to fight because of their attack, but Cipher cut me off. "And don't say it's because of what happened to Nostrand. I know for a fact that you've been a mercenary for far longer than that."

"Who's been telling stories?" I asked, not expecting him to answer. He did anyways. "Scarlet did," he said. "Also some of the people in the infirmary. A lot of them knew that I'm a merc from Nostrand. And more than a few speculated that I'd end up in Galm Team."

Smart people. It wasn't that hard to analyze, actually. Galm Team was the only mercenary team with an open slot. The others, with two or three fighters already in them, was packed to capacity. "Fine," I said in defeat. "I became a mercenary back in...'91, if I'm not mistaken. A friend of mine signed up for the Belkan Air Force. He was crazy good. And by crazy, I mean that it should've been impossible. He only had one arm."

At that, Cipher gaped at me. While it was surprising, it wasn't untrue. Well, except the small detail that Blackhawk was my brother, and not my friend. I grinned as I continued. "One arm, and he already beat me in combat several times already. But the Air Force didn't see that. All they saw was that one arm."

"He was rejected."

I sighed. "Yes, he was. Of course, I got angry. So both of us decided to just run. We became mercenaries. That Eagle of mine? I stole it from Grunder, and I've had it ever since I started as a merc."

"That's the same Eagle you landed with only one wing?"

Seriously, whoever had been telling stories about me had one very loose mouth. "Yeah. Did a lot of work to restore it because of that stunt."

Cipher opened his mouth, obviously about to say something else, but at the time, we'd arrived at the briefing room.


	8. why it's a horrible idea to paint your plane all green

To think that we had a briefing just to be told that we needed to go on patrol...

Patrol missions were literally the most boring thing a mercenary pilot could be stuck with. Which was lucky, considering that it could've been tons and tons of paperworks (like the poor guys that were the Air Force pilots). These was one of the few occasions that I wished the Halo Squad were accompanying me. Arguing with them could really take the boredom out of these patrols (not that I would tell them that).

Too bad that I only had Cipher on the skies with me.

"Hey, Cipher," I said, deciding to break the radio silence. "How much longer do we have to be flying?"

"Until we have to get back?"

It would've been a lot more funny if we weren't the ones that were actually flying. "If having to go back means when we're out of fuel, I'd say we get back earlier than that," I said, hoping that after this, he'd actually answer me.

"Aren't you the one with the experience?" Well, so much for that.

I sighed. "If you prefer loitering around 'till your bird is out of juice, then be my guest, but don't drag me down with you, too." Mentally, I've counted the minimum amount of fuel I needed to get back safely. So far, it seemed that I still had a good deal of loitering around left before I had to go back. But when the time comes, I wouldn't wait around for Cipher to come back to his senses and follow me. If he refused to do so... I guess I'd have to drag his sorry tail back to base.

I bet the Halo Squad would get a good laugh out of that.

"Base Command to Galm Team," the Control Tower radioed in. Some ways in front of me, Cipher snapped out of his barrel roll and leveled his plane to the same altitude as mine. "An unknown aircraft is approaching airspace from vector 3-2-0. Intercept him for precautionary measures."

"Roger that," I radioed, heading over to the vector given by Base Command. I looked at my radar. That "unknown aircraft" was on the way of penetrating the restricted airspace around Valais Air Base. His trajectory was almost parallel to the airspace boundaries, so I doubted that its intentions were to directly come towards us. However, there were many times in the past that fighters used this trick to fool the enemy and attack them when they least expected it. There was no way I was going to let this one made a fool out of me.

I pulled up ahead of Cipher, temporarily assuming the role of flight lead. Cipher seemed okay with it, since he did not attempt to get back ahead of me. I had two purposes in doing this maneuver. One, with me seemingly the flight lead, the enemy would likely decide to not engage. Yes, there was only one plane, but radars could be fooled. Stealth planes had a way to slip past them, and there were a few models of stealth bombers already manufactured. I wasn't taking any chances. My Eagle, with the right wing painted red, was famous, even more so since I was a mercenary who had been to many countries. Landing a plane with only one wing was not an easy feat; doing so would make you the headlines of the mercenary community, and in extension, the Air Force community. While it might not be as intimidating as Schwarze, hopefully, it was enough.

Two, Cipher didn't look like a flight lead. No offense to the rookie, but his plane looked like a trainee's. No paint schemes, and it was obviously devoid of the kill count people normally recorded on the side of their planes. While I knew personally that Cipher had enough kill counts to be considered an ace, no one knew that. And no matter how skilled Cipher was, I wouldn't necessarily let him be the prime target of an entire enemy squadron just because he looks like the greenest pilot in the skies. Heaven knows how many times he got too close to death in that one mission.

With that said, it was me that met the enemy first, head on. It was of an unknown type to me; I had never seen it. It looked like it was enough to be a stealth. I looked at the radar to confirm that it was the same plane the Control Tower had reported. To my surprise, it was not; the other plane was still some ways away and was already fleeing from the airspace. No need to pursue that one, but we still had a problem in our hands. I looked back to stare at the plane. It was a stealth...

...and his companion just exited from the clouds above us for an ambush.

I barely had time to dodge before a rain of bullets riddled my aircraft's frame. With a curse, I rolled out of the way. The plane shot past me, attempting a loop to get back on my tail. Cipher, who was lower than both of us, had gone on to engage the first one.

The pilot I had pitted myself against was pretty good. His maneuvers were incredibly tight. It could very well be his aircraft. I had no idea what it was, and I had a pretty good knowledge of aircraft types. It must be a new type. I wondered if it was a secret weapon the Belka had been creating. Either way, it was time to find out.

"This is Galm Team from Ustio's 6th Air Division to two unknown fighters," I spoke over the radio using standard frequency. "State your intentions immediately, or you will be shot down. You are approaching restricted airspace."

Over the radio, I heard some static before someone yelled, "Whoa! Chuck, hold on! That's our allies!"

Allies?

"You're serious?" another voice said. The two planes immediately disengaged and separated themselves from us.

"Sorry, man," the first guy said. "Name's Rip, this is my partner Chuck. We're mercs from Osea. We're going to be paired with... Tiger Squadron?"

So these were the new guys Malkin was talking about? I understood why he disliked them. They were too brash. They attacked first and didn't stop to think that we were allies. Cipher and I weren't at fault; they made the first aggressive move. We were both on self-defense.

"Hey," one of them said. I thought it was Chuck. "Are you Solo Wing?"

Like I said, I was famous. There was the proof. "Just call me Pixy," I said. "This is my buddy, Cipher."

"Merc?" Rip asked.

I nodded before remembering that he couldn't see me. "Yeah," I answered.

There was a snort over the radio. "He looked like a nugget," Chuck commented. While it had some truth to it, it didn't lessen the sting caused by the comment. "He's not from Belka, is he?"

"Umm... No, actually," Cipher answered. "I...ummm.... I'm from Nostrand."

"I am the one from Belka," I answered as well.

That shut them up quick.

The silence that followed, although uncomfortable, was not unwelcome. I disliked them. The lack of respect was obvious. Even though mercenaries weren't as jam-packed with rules like the Air Force, we still had a code of respect. Cipher, although admittedly still a rookie and didn't seem to know the code that well, still held that respect. Sure, he might joked with me from time to time, but he never crossed the line.

Speaking of crossing lines...

"Galm Team to Base Command," I spoke over the radio, already switched over to Valais' frequency. "The bogey just ran away. But we had a run-in with two other unknown planes along the way."

"Are they hostile?"

"Negative," I answered, looking back at the two stealth planes and their obnoxious paint schemes. Seriously, who in their right mind would paint their plane bright green? "They're two mercenaries heading over to join Tiger Squadron. They called themselves Rip and Chuck. Is that right?"

There was a few moments' worth of silence before Ovechkin answered, "Affirmative. Escort them back to base. After that, your patrol is over. Great job, Galm Team."

"Roger. Pixy, over and out."

I didn't bother to relay the messages to Cipher, knowing that the chances were that he had already heard it. It was rather funny when you thought of it. Cipher was the official flight leader. But I was the one who was acting like a flight leader. I didn't blame Cipher. He was, technically, still a trainee. It would make sense if I was the flight lead for a while, at least until he was ready to fully take the role. I wondered whether or not the Base Commander knew that Cipher was a trainee.

 

_X_

 

"That is, legit, the worst paint job I've ever seen."

I turned to find Cipher standing behind me. We were both staring at the two new pilots' planes. I agreed with Cipher. Their paint jobs were the worst. The bright, almost neon green paint was unbearable to look at. While their planes were stealth, that paint made it practically scream "I'm here! Come and get me!" Because seriously, everyone could see their plane against the blue sky from a hundred miles away.

"Do you recognize the plane type?" I asked Cipher.

Unsurprisingly, my flight lead shook his head. "No idea. I've never seen it before."

I nodded in agreement. "It's definitely stealth. My radar caught zero traces of it."

"Are all mercenaries like that?"

I looked at him, unsure of what he had meant. "All of you have specialized paint jobs," Cipher clarified. "Some more flashy than others, but y'all have it. Why?"

He was right. "Well..." I began, not quite sure on how to explain it to Cipher. "We tend to do that. We don't know why, or since when it started, but it's like a... an accepted fact. Mercenaries have distinct paint jobs, to easily identify one another in combat. Besides, it's like your signature."

"Like yours?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "My red wing. Solo Wing Pixy, remember?"

Cipher grumbled. "How can I forget? You have a fan in the infirmary, you know? She never stops talking about you and how good you are." Well, that was a new fact. One that I'd rather not know.

Looking towards his own plane, Cipher asked, "So I need to have one too, huh?"

"Preferably," I answered, heading over his plane. "It's not necessary. But hey, plain grey's a bit boring."

"I can't deny that," Cipher laughed. And then he went silent, seemingly thinking hard. "I think I have an idea..."

I grinned. The rookie was pretty quick on the uptake. "Need my help applying the paint?"

Cipher looked at the plane again before grimacing. "I think so. But that won't put you off though?"

"None whatsoever," I assured him, already moving towards the cupboards where the mechanics used to keep the paints. "Besides, I'd like to hear this idea of yours."

I opened the cupboard, surveying the contents. There wasn't much. With a lot of planes (and mercenaries) coming and going, the paint seemed to be used often. And with the arrival of the two new mercenaries, I doubted that what was left in the cupboards wouldn't last long. "I hope you don't need green," I said. "We're out of it."

"Actually," Cipher said, moving to the cupboard and standing beside me. "I only need two colors; blue and grey."

I frowned. That was...simple. "Same shade of grey?"

Cipher nodded. "Yeah. Oh. And I'd probably need the red, purple and white, too. I mean, seeing as how I'm a part of Galm Team..."

I understood immediately. He wanted to have the insignia on his rudders. "All here," I said, handing out the three buckets. They were the exact same shade with the insignia I had on my plane. I'd know because I was the one who helped applying it all those years ago. It wasn't easy. Blackhawk had wanted to paint the entirety of our insignia to the rudders, while I had argued that it was too detailed and that such insignias were best reserved for uniform patches. Finally, we settled on drawing the image of the hellhound. It had worked ever since.

"Great," Cipher said with a grin. "Now, all I need is the blue-"

"Here," I said, pulling out a bucket of blue paint. Cipher took one look at it and shook his head. "Not this one," he said. He looked at the other cans available and pulled out one of them. "This one." It was a much darker shade of blue than the one I'd picked. It was probably navy blue.

"Great," I laughed. Taking out the grey can (which I swore was the exact same shade as Cipher's plane), I walked towards the plane. "Let's begin."

To make a paint scheme on your plane was a delicate process. While it wasn't that hard, if you were sloppy in doing so, you'd get a really, really bad paint scheme. Or, in the other hand, if your techniques weren't sloppy and you just had really bad taste in art, you'd get what those Green Freaks had for their planes.

Since both of us had a lot of surface to cover, I assigned Cipher to apply the grey paint where he wanted them. The Eagle, which I thought was the same one that Cipher used to escape from Nostrand, had been shot up on many occasions recently, most of them on account of everyone wanting to kill him. So, while the actual holes were already fixed, there were marks of the repair. Those "marks" stood in stark contrast against the plane's lighter shade, making it look a bit like a snow leopard with those greyish spots. The grey paint was useful in covering those. Meanwhile, I focused on the task of painting the insignia. Since I had done it with Blackhawk's plane and mine, I might as well do it again. While it was trickier than just covering up marks, I still enjoyed it.

It took a couple of hours for us to finish that plane. And when it was finished, I had to say that Cipher's idea wasn't half bad. In the end, all we did was cover up the bullet marks and paint the control surfaces blue. Cipher had painted the wings, rudders and elevators with the triangular blue. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"It's great, buddy," I said to him, grinning. Cipher grinned back. "Yeah. It is."

"Does it mean something?"

Cipher looked at me, silent for a few moments. "Yeah," he nodded. Before I had a chance to ask what it actually meant, a bell rang clear through the base. Dinnertime. And hell if I let Cipher get away from eating with Halo Squad like last time.


	9. a lot of things can happen in a few hours...

Dinner wasn't very interesting. The menu didn't change (it never did). A few tuna sandwiches. Pizza. Mac and Cheese. Y'know, all those frozen foods that only needed to be microwaved to be eaten? Those kind of stuff. It wasn't all that appetizing. But it was food, so I wouldn't refuse.

As we headed over to the table with our trays, Rowdy greeted us on the way, also carrying a tray of his own. "Why, there's the little lost lamb. Where were you last time?"

Cipher blushed a bit at that. "I was...umm...looking around the base," he said, not sounding truly convincing. "Maybe I can find some secret stashes."

"Tell me if you find any," Rowdy laughed. "Although, if you find any that belongs to Tiger Squad, please, for the sake of your life, don't take it." I could relate to that. Malkin was scary when he was angry. Ovechkin, too, for that matter. Maybe it was just a Yuktobanian thing.

"Ya betcha," Cipher said, grinning. But then, he frowned. "But how do I know if it's Tiger Squad's?"

Rowdy paused, looking a bit thoughtful. That was a really good question, though. It wasn't like anyone would mark their stash around here. So far, I hadn't found any, so I had no idea if that was actually the case.

"You'll have an angry Yuktobanian coming after you," Rowdy said after a while. He laughed. "So I think it's better not to take any stash at all."

"I thought it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?"

"That rule doesn't apply to Yukes. And I value my life. If you and your psycho nature can't deal with that, don't take anyone down with you."

Cipher actually gaped when Rowdy said that, and I just laughed at his expression. "You really think I'm suicidal?" Cipher asked. If you ask me, I say he didn't look like he really wanted to know.

Rowdy snorted. "Everyone knows that. Who the fuck in their right mind would try to handle a patrol flight of Belkans all on their own?"

"Your flight was too slow," Cipher retorted. "I would've died if I waited for help."

"Then use that fancy training of yours. Evade like hell. Not plunge head in into the fray. Showoff." Even as he said this, Rowdy was grinning. He still was grinning when we all walked to our table.

"Hey, it's the new guy!" Lance greeted us when we sat down. "And the worst wingman ever."

I groaned. "Won't you lay off of it for one day, guys?"

"Nope," Rowdy nodded seriously. He had this glint in his eye which I DID NOT like in any way. Usually it meant bad things were coming your way. "We like giving you hell. So far, you haven't given us enough reason not to do so."

"We won't let this one go," Scarlet chimed in, grinning like a goddamn cheshire cat.

"Never ever."

Robin looked at all his squadmates, glaring murderously at them. I shuddered, even though he wasn't aiming it at me. Seriously. That guy could be scarier than a Yuke when he wanted to be. "Guys. I'll say it, and I won't say it again. Lay off of Pixy. I mean it. Understand?" Although he didn't outright say "Do otherwise and I'll get your hides," the threat wasn't lost on all of us.

Lance looked crestfallen. "Aye-aye, Cap."

"Yes, Cap," Scarlet said, meticulously studying the plate of Mac and Cheese in front of her.

"Crystal clear," Rowdy said, not quite hiding his pout. I would've laughed at his childishness, but at that exact second, someone walked close to our table. I didn't really know what happened. But the next thing I knew, I had a plate of tuna sandwich thrown to my face, and the guy was lying face-down on the floor.

It took me less than a second to realize that the guy had tripped and the tuna sandwich in his hand had decided to use my face as target practice.

What is it with me and Lady Luck these days?

To my right, I heard someone giggling.

It was Scarlet.

"You think this is funny?" I asked her. I tried to keep looking serious, but still, I found myself grinning.

Scarlet nodded. "Yes."

I grinned more and more as I grabbed for a tuna sandwich in Cipher's plate. "Then this must be funny as well."

I was already about to throw the food at her in retaliation when suddenly...

"What's going on here?"

I froze. Then, very slowly, I turned to the doorway. Right there, stood Alexander Ovechkin. The freaking Base Commander.

Cipher laughed quietly beside me. I would've smacked him for that (the traitor) if I didn't have the undivided attention of a Base Commander aimed at me. "Uhh... Commander," I said. For the first time since I got to the base, I felt nervous.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, Commander," I said brusquely. "Not at all."

Ovechkin nodded, seemingly satisfied at my reply. "So why don't you go change? You look like an 11-year-old after a food fight."

Trying my best to ignore Cipher (who was desperately trying to keep himself from laughing outright), I nodded at Ovechkin and headed straight for the showers.

Damn my luck.

 

_X_

 

_"Hey, Larry!"_

_Turning around, I saw Sebastian, waving at me from where he was perched on the rocks. I grinned, running towards him. "What is it, Seb?"_

_He pointed towards the valley below us. I looked. It was amazing. The sheer drop from the edge of the cliff to the shallow river below us was breathtaking. I felt like I could just fall down and spread my wings and fly._

_Not that I'd do that, though. I'm smart enough to know I'd be dead if I ever tried that._

_"It's beautiful, Seb," I commented instead. I pulled out my camera, taking a picture of the entire thing. It was too good to miss. "Maybe I'll win something with this. This is so good."_

_Seb grabbed towards the camera, obviously wanting to take a look at the picture. "Lemme see! Lemme see!"_

_I pulled the camera away from him, using my other hand to hold him back. "Come and get it!"_

_Seb flailed his arm, trying (and failing) to get at me. "I'll get it, Larry! I'll get-_

_*CRASH*_

I woke up, not exactly knowing what caused me to wake up. It wasn't a bad dream. And I knew for sure that I didn't have to go to a briefing in... what? 2 a.m.?

It was quite a while before I heard the sound of someone tossing and turning, the kind you get when you're thrashing about in your sleep.

Cipher.

I peeked over my bed. And sure enough, I saw Cipher on the bunk underneath mine. As I suspected, he was restless, struggling against something invisible. "Cipher," I whispered. No response. His movements was more erratic now, and I winced when his foot struck one of the bedposts.  _That must hurt._

Another kick at the post. "Cipher!" I said again, louder this time. "It's just a dream. Wake up!" Cipher stilled for a moment. I tensed, hoping that it was over. When a few seconds had passed and nothing else happened, I relaxed and laid back down on my bed. Maybe I could still get a few more hours of sleep.

What do those Oseans usually say? Oh, yeah. Don't ask, don't tell.

 

_X_

 

When I woke up a few hours later (around 7, I think), Cipher's bed was empty. It wasn't that surprising. The man probably wanted a walk or something. Walks usually help me when I have nightmares.

Jumping down from the top bunk, I grabbed my coat and walked out. The air was a bit warmer than yesterday. Maybe we would have a sunny day at last, though I doubted that. Ustio wasn't exactly known for white-sand beaches and tropical setting after all. As far as I could tell it was snow, snow, snow all day.

Just like Belka.

And Nostrand.

I stopped, suddenly remembering something. I probably wasn't too familiar with Nostrand, but I did remember learning about the country as a kid. You know, the teachers at school thought it was a really good idea to force the students to memorize every single country that bordered yours and to learn everything you could know about it. Naturally, I had to learn it. The one thing I really remembered until I was grown-up was the flags of those countries. Nostrand's was one of my favourites. It was all blue and white with an insignia on the middle...

Oh, shit.

It wasn't long before I reached the base's Database Room. It was even less time before I asked one of the database technicians to pull up the files they have about Nostrand.

"Nostrand?" the woman had looked at me, clearly surprised. "Why would you open the file for that?"

I smiled at her. "Nothing much. I got some hunch, and I just wanna see if I'm right."

"All right, then." She still seemed hesitant, but at least she was already giving me the folder.  _And damn, that folder is really thick! Most of them is probably about the invasion._  "Don't lose it, and don't forget to return it. I'd hate to print it again."

I nodded my thanks, and was gone in seconds. Once outside, I opened the damned folder. And there it was, right in the front page, printed in full color for the whole world to see.

The flag of Nostrand...

It was just as I remembered. Blue background. White triangle at the center, with a flowery shape (maybe it was called a fleur-de-lis, but I wasn't sure) at the middle of said white triangle. I mentally compared it to the wings of Cipher's Eagle. It was a perfect match as far as I was concerned.

 

_X_

 

When I  _finally_ met Cipher at around noon, he was joking around with the rest of the Halo Squadron in the mess.

"Pixy!" Robin shouted the moment he saw me as I walked in. "We're having a game of UNO! Care to join us?"

Rowdy, who was sitting on Robin's right, placed a card on an ever growing pile of cards at the center of the table. I noticed that it was black with...4 different-colored bars in the middle? And a +4?  _What the heck is this game?_  "Don't fall for it, Pixy," he said with a grin. "He just wanted you to join so he won't be the only loser in this group."

Robin glared at him. "That's bullshit. I need another grown-up to help me watch the four of you. 'Tis too great a task for a man!"

"It's your turn," Lance pointed out, poking Robin's arm. "And stop that posh language!"

Robin looked at the pile of cards. As soon as he did, though, he groaned in annoyance.

"Why?" I looked again at the card. I had no idea what it meant, and why it would cause Robin to look like he was dying. "What does it mean?"

"Don't tell me you never played UNO?" Cipher asked. He was looking at me, downright surprised.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Should I have? And what does that card mean? Gil looks like he's dying right now."

"It means I should take four new cards," he said, at the same time drawing four cards from a different pile. I noticed that the pile was a lot shorter than the previous one, and that Robin had a lot of cards in his hands. "Which, of course, means I have four more cards between me and the finish line."

Scarlet laughed, placing a card on the pile. "Stop using your attack cards early, moron!"

"Watch who you're calling a moron, Scarlet," Robin warned. If looks could kill, Robin's would do the job well and more than that. "I'm still you're flight leader."

"Doesn't mean they should let you win." Cipher placed a new card on the table. It had two arrows on it. "Your turn again, Scarlet."

Wait, what? I thought Scarlet just made a move. How was it her turn? Shouldn't it be Lance's? "Why does Scarlet get two moves?"

Lance just shot a look at me, clearly unimpressed. "Cipher, from now on, it's your job to educate Pixy on the remarkable game of UNO. The Neanderthal's obviously lived under a rock this whole stinking time."

Cipher's "gotcha" was inevitably drowned out by me protesting. "We're the same spesies," I reasoned. "Some Sapient-thingamajig."

Scarlet placed another card at the table. "Homo Sapiens."

"Yeah, that." I sat down on the vacant spot between Robin and Rowdy. "And this is a weird game. Try poker. It's better."

Rowdy laughed outright at that one. "Poker's for gramps, Pix. I expect this from Robin, not you."

The only response from the Halo flight leader was a middle finger.

 

_X_

 

Halfway through watching the guys play UNO the second time, I still don't see why it's a fun game. I mean, the rules are crazy! Well, it is different, and it is interesting. But still, anyone who've shuffled the deck prior to the game can rig the cards so that they'll get the good ones. For example, any one of the cards that doesn't have a number. And all of them with the plus signs.

Proof? Rowdy had shuffled this deck, and he got the +4 card and so much more attack cards. I could see it clear as day; I was sitting behind him.

"Hello, fellas."

I turned to see who was talking, and I grimaced. I didn't recognize them, but the bright green insignia on their flight suits clued me in.

One of the green freaks.

"What are you guys doing?" the taller one asked. I took a glance of the name tag and it read "C. Murphy". My guess is he's Chuck, and the other guy's Rip.

"Uhh... We're playing UNO," Lance answered, looking up at the newcomers. He had a funny look on his face. "Um, who are you guys? We've never seen you around."

Chuck grinned. "Oh, I'm Chuck and he's Rip. We're the Green Hornets."

Out of nowhere, Rowdy laughed out loud. I shot a look at him to try and warn him. I've seen mercs like those two, and usually, they never liked anything from other people that isn't respect and obedience. Laughing at them is NOT an action I would ever suggest. "What's so funny?" Rip growled.

"You guys name your team after a comic book character?" Rowdy gasped out, still laughing. I would've kicked his leg if I could, but him being in front of me and me being out from under the table meant that the green freaks would surely see what I did.

Chuck scowled, his arms crossed. "No, we didn't."

Rowdy flashed a grin at the two. He's stopped laughing (finally!) and was definitely getting a kick out of the name. The Green Hornets. "Well sorry, boys, but the name's patented. That's copyrighted material."

"Yeah, right." Chuck rolled his eyes, not caring if Rowdy saw it or not. "That's still our name, and we're still using it."

Lance looked a bit thoughtful. "What if they sued, though?"

"Huh?"

"Lawsuit," Lance clarified. "You do know what they mean, right?"

"Of course we do!" Rip looked downright pissed right now. I was beginning to get worried. Things could get ugly. "What do you take us for? Morons?"

Cipher shot a look at the two pilots, face blank. "The Green Hornets, right?" Chuck nodded. "Then you're in the clear. The comic book character is the Green Hornet."

Lance looked at Cipher, frowning. "But they're the same!"

"Not really," Rowdy said, deciding to help Cipher. I watched the Green Hornets as the conversation go on. They seemed to be a bit calmer now. "One has an s, the other doesn't."

Scarlet laughed. "And one's singular, the other's plural. Where did you learn your grammar, Lance?"

"Shut up," Lance snapped, face red. "Okay, so I was wrong. Sorry. Now let's forget about it, okay?"

Grinning, I decided to jump in. "Aww... who invited the grumpy cat here?"

"More like Red Riding Hood," Robin said, shuffling his cards around. "He's so red right now."

"Fuck you!"

None of us noticed the Green Hornets slipping away until the game finally ended. But hey, it's not like they'll be missed.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is cross-posted to Wattpad under the same title.


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